Exiled
by FallenStar2
Summary: Drabbles based on Naitchs Star Wars IV: Hope Reborn. It has been nearly a year since exiled Jedi came through the portal and evolved into a New Order. This is their story…
1. Year 1: Lay Down Your Burdens

**Exiled**

**Title: **Exiled

**Rating: **T, for some adult content/situations

**Summary: **It has been nearly a year since exiled Jedi came through the portal and entered a whole new existence. In their time, they have found comfort, friendship and have evolved into a New Order. This is their story…

**Disclaimer: **I own neither genre. Joss Whedon owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer. George Lucas owns the Star Wars franchise as well as the authors of the individual novels. And I owe SO much to Naitch03, or Andrew, for creating this universe. I feel honored for being chosen as one of his beta readers. I tell you people, he has created a monster. Most of these he has never seen, so most are posted without permission but with great respect.

**Spoilers: **Star Wars Episode IV: Hope Reborn and everything before it. I highly recommend reading this story and its ancestors before continuing on.

**Notes: **These are a group of drabbles following the four years in exile. I have no idea how many there will be, but there are five for certain. They all follow a chronological pattern. We begin in Year One, shortly after the trip through the portal…

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_Lay Down Your Burdens_

_All she wanted to do was rest… what was so wrong about that?_

Buffy Summers-Skywalker was tired.

After everything she had been through, she felt she had a right to be. Curled on the makeshift cot in what seemed like a closet, she could finally close her eyes and rest. Things had been happening so quickly – their frenzied escape through the portal, Dawn's sudden appearance with the gift of a Jedi, Darth Traya's descent into Willow… She felt so tired. There was nothing but the growing emptiness inside of her. Even as she longed to just close her eyes and sleep these problems away, she knew she would soon have to face everything, including Willow.

When she wasn't facing questions from Kennedy and Tara, she was dealing with Faith and the Slayer army, celebrating the return of their legend. But what she needed most of all was time.

Her friends understood. Obi-Wan had practically pushed her into her new room and took up with the constant bombardment from her so-called friends. Anakin and Padmé were gracious and understanding as always. They understood what she had just been through.

Their exile had only begun and she was already beginning to resent her former friends. Xander, who had always admired her, seemed more affable to Willow despite the fact that as Traya she had been responsible for the deaths of millions, including the Order Buffy had nearly died protecting. Traya had also ordered the death of Buffy's family, something Xander didn't seem to grasp. He hadn't been there so he knew nothing of the pain she had suffered for so long now. Bitterly, she held up her hand, glinting gold even in the dull light from the single bulb hovering inches above her body. Closing her fingers with a soft sigh, she turned on her side and buried her face in the pillow. Traya had killed her Jedi Master… Traya had magically doused Anakin until he was walking, talking Evil… Traya had killed her dear friend Nejaa… Traya had…

Groaning, she turned onto her back and glared at the ceiling. It hurt to think about these things. Even though she was a Jedi, it hurt to bury the memories of something so wonderful being ripped away so cruelly by someone wearing the face of her best friend.

A gentle knock sounded at the door. Turning her head, Buffy watched as the door cracked open and a head poked through. "Buffy?"

"Mm?" she mumbled, not really wanting the company. In her temperament, she wanted to hurt someone. She hoped she was giving off the vibe for the visitor to turn around and walk back out. But when she saw the familiar form of her former Watcher step through the door, she knew it would be impossible to get him away. "What do you want?"

"Your friends are worried about you," he said quietly, sitting on the end of her bed even as she made the effort to sit up. Seeing the bitter, dark look on her face, he hastily added, "I've been worried for you, too."

"Gee," Buffy said, feeling the anger in her voice, "I thought Willow was your biggest concern." At seeing him wince, she felt a small flutter of triumph. "Forgive me if I'm not on the whole 'let's join Willow in redemption' party because I just uninvited myself."

"Buffy, you have to understand—"

"I don't have to understand anything," she ground out, fixing him with her most pointed glare. "You have no idea what Willow put me through, what she did to me and my family." Even speaking was causing her pain. She forced herself to breathe as she continued. "How can you ask me to turn around and forgive her? That bitch did everything in her power to destroy me! She murdered my fiancé, his son and our daughter. Yes, Giles," she said as the shocked look spread across his face, "I had a girl. I named her Joyce."

"Buffy, I—"

"Do you know how I felt when I got back to that camp and found him lying there knowing that Willow… your _precious _Willow… had been the one to order his death?" She could hardly keep the tears from welling in her eyes now. "She took away my future. She murdered my daughter who was an innocent in all of this… she was only five months old. I had finally loved someone so far from home and Willow took it away."

Giles could feel the waves of anger resonating from his Slayer. "Buffy, please…"

"No," she said angrily, wiping the tears she hated herself for shedding. "You don't get a say in this. Just because Willow turned evil, you think you're so sympathetic to what she became? Why don't you look around at the people she hurt? The Jedi won't appreciate your 'yay Willow!' party… if you haven't noticed, she's made some enemies."

"You were once the closest of friends, Buffy. In the three years since you disappeared, it's hard for us to understand exactly what you've been through."

"Did I tell you she killed my mentor?" Buffy asked, her voice tight and filled with pain. "Yeah, she killed him. So what? I only felt like she had killed you, so it wasn't anything big for me at all. I mean, you're only like the only father I've ever known, so why should I let it bother me?"

Giles looked away, unable to look her in the eye.

"Did I mention she did some magic on my brother, got him to turn to her will? Yeah, that's Willow, always willing to help out. She turned my brother into a Dark Lord, something that you should know quite a bit about, Rupert. If I wasn't so busy trying to stay alive, I might have been able to save him. Thank God Obi-Wan just happened to be there."

"Buffy, I—"

"And speaking of which, how about the Jedi she killed? You know that Order out there, the one that pretty much hates her? Yeah, they have their reasons for that. She basically killed everyone that tried to protect our one temple in the capital. Including my friends. So you'll have to forgive me if I'm not so willing to forget that although she has the red hair and the simpering nature, she's still the same murderer." She couldn't stop herself now. Tears were pouring freely down her cheeks. But she felt as though a burden were being released, as though weight was lifted off of her shoulders. She had been holding this in for so long now… it was so painful to get it out, but she knew she couldn't stop. Not now.

"Oh, and this?" she continued, holding up her arm. "Willow decided to give me a souvenir. Maybe she wanted it to be like Anakin's and maybe she just wanted to kill me. She wanted us dead, Giles. She wanted _me _dead. She killed my family. She took away my Order. She turned my brother into a monster. And you forgave her." She lifted her chin and looked him dead in the eye. "You forgave her…"

"Buffy, forgiveness is not forgetting what she did to you," Giles said, glancing at her and reaching for her trembling hand. As his fingers closed around the metal, he felt something like contempt within himself. "It's letting go of the hurt."

"How can I let it go?" she asked, desperate to make him understand. "She took so much from me and you all expect me to just turn around and act like it never happened. You know what? It did happen. Unlike you, I'm willing to hold Willow responsible for what she did as Traya. You may overlook the fact she was going for galactic domination just because you got her back. To me… my friend is dead. Darth Sidious killed my friend and turned her into that monster and now you brought her back and welcomed her with open arms. How can I ever forgive you for that?" She pulled her hand back sharply as Giles sighed.

"I can't help but feel responsible for some of the changes Willow made, Buffy," Giles said quietly. "If it hadn't been for me, she may have been able to safely use magic."

"No, Giles, you couldn't have saved her," Buffy said coldly. "Nobody could have saved her. What she went through down there… what that freak did to her, I don't think it could have been avoided. You have no reason to feel guilty because you didn't do anything wrong."

"Buffy—"

"What do you want from me?" she asked, falling back against her pillows. "I know you did us a great service by taking us all in… but when you expect me to love my enemy, I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

"Buffy, I won't lie to you. We were greatly relieved when both you and Willow were discovered… despite the situation," he added, glancing at Buffy's dark scowl. "I know things are going to be difficult now with Willow's return. The Jedi are at best cautious and at most threatening towards her. And before you go off and explain to me what Willow has done to you, I will remind you that your friends, including your brother, have already done that. But we weren't there. I can't possibly begin to imagine the pain you're going through. You've always commanded my great respect because in the end, you will do what is right. Giving your life for your sister proved that. I have always loved you and when I hear of the Jedi Order speaking of you with such reverence, I feel proud because you are the woman I knew and to see what you've become is something of a dream come true." He smiled even as his Slayer peered at him through tear-filled eyes. "I know that this isn't home, Buffy. You spent a great deal of time in the other universe and coming back here must be something of a cultural shock. But we're both adults now and we have difficult choices to face in the future. I quite imagine that Lord Ambroise-Bellairs will expect you to take the lead and to assume your previous role."

He paused for a moment.

"I can't expect you to take on that role. You have a new destiny now and, until that time comes, you have to lay down your burdens and rest. You've earned that much, Buffy, if not more. How can I ask you to fight for a world you don't belong to? How can I ask you to become a Slayer when it has likely been years since you've seen a vampire, much less slain one? How can I ask you to forgive your best friend after she wronged you so greatly? It's simple – I can't. If you're looking for blame, Buffy, I can't help you. I'm not going to blame Willow for anything. If you want to blame me, you can. What you'll get from me is my support. You've always had it. My respect is something you've earned. There are difficult times ahead and, if what your Council has told me is true, a war to be fought. They'll need you before the end. Can I blame them? No. I know that when it comes down to it, you'll die to save them. You've already paid dearly for that." He gestured to her arm. "If you need anything, ever, you know where to find me."

"Thank you," Buffy said, managing a small smile as she closed her eyes and settled into her cot. She suddenly felt exhausted. Her thoughts were fading away to allow her time to sleep.

Even as Buffy drifted off to sleep, Giles watched over her. As he stood there, his thoughts dwelled onto the others. Obi-Wan had defended Buffy outright, saying she more than earned the utter despise she showed towards Willow. Anakin had coldly told the Watcher's Council he wanted nothing to do with Willow. Padmé couldn't even say anything but just trembled as Anakin spoke. The other Jedi had easily fallen into line. After he had heard the story from Buffy, he knew it was the truth. Feeling a sudden pang of anger towards Xander and Tara, he forced himself to breathe and stared once again at the small figure that lay on her cot, finally sleeping.

"How could someone so small endure so much?" he asked quietly, to no one in particular. After ensuring she was sleep, he sadly turned and left her room, closing the door softly behind him.

x-o-x

_end_


	2. Year 1: Why We Live

**Exiled**

**Disclaimer: **Owner by Joss Whedon, George Lucas and the master of this crossover, Drew Niehaus.

**Notes: **Think of this as a continuation of the small bit from year one but days later. Continuing in Year One…

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_Why We Live_

_Even before she walked in, they could feel her pain…_

Even as the clock chimed midnight, Willow could feel the hands ticking each second away. She wished it would tick away every second for the next few years, just so she could finally move past it. It was hard to imagine feeling this way, as though she was partly being torn apart. Part of her longed to force herself into hibernation for the next few years and the other part was struggling not to drive the small dagger she kept twirling idly in her hand into her heart. What had once been used to slice an apple had become an appealing weapon.

Everything was so new… everything was so strange. It seemed familiar, like waking up from a long-lost dream. She had seen Tara nearly as she remembered coming towards her. She remembered being dragged away before she could say anything.

What could she say? What should she say? That she had messed everything up? That she had let the magicks take over? That she had used her power to destroy and kill? The blonde witch had been in her apartment days earlier, telling her about how much more experienced she was with magic and that all Willow knew was the black magic. Tara at least understood the power. But the others?

Tick. Tick. Tick.

They didn't even recognize her.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

They didn't _want _to recognize her. Someone had likely filled them in on all of Traya's antics. While she had Xander on her side, did she want him on her side? He knew _nothing _of the horrors Willow had seen, both as herself and as Traya. The only person in the world, in the universe, who could understand what she was going through was Buffy. And her former best friend had basically disowned her.

Willow couldn't blame her – she could only blame herself. She was the one who had made the choice. Though she had done those horrid things as Traya, it was because she had chosen to do them. Oh, the magic had such profound influence but when it came down to it, it came down to human error.

She sighed, twirling the knife again, watching as the shiny blade glinted from the dim lights in her small apartment.

Before she could make up her mind, the clock chimed midnight. She set the knife aside and rose to her feet, intending to go to the small couch. She had a small pill on the table, one that Xander had slipped to her. It would soon take over and let her drift off to sleep. She would sleep knowing the dreams would come. The dreams showed faces of her victims, all of them screaming that they would see her soon enough.

Swallowing hard, Willow picked up the pill and turned it over in her palm. This was the coward's way out. How did the others do it? How could they sleep knowing what they had been through?

Before she could make her choice, there was a knock on the door. Since Tara was a frequent visitor of late, she knew that the blonde witch wouldn't knock, she would just walk in. This meant she had a legitimate visitor. She sat down and called, "Enter!"

The door opened and a single figure stepped in. She didn't need her eyes to tell her that the figure was a vampire. Her blood and her skin told her that. Running a hand over her neck to calm the skin that crawled, she offered a hasty smile and gestured around her cramped quarters. "What are you doing here?"

"Just checking on you," Angel said in that gentle voice of his. "Can't let you have all the brooding fun around here."

"I thought I told you to wait for me," a second voice piped in. Willow closed her mouth and glanced in surprise as Spike stepped into the room behind Angel. Before she could object, Spike shut the door with a quick snap behind him and folded his arms, scowling at her.

_Great, _she thought to herself. _I'm stuck with two living undead that happened to love the one person in this world I hurt the most. _Clearing her throat slightly, she asked, "Can I help you?"

"We were actually wondering if we could help _you,_" Angel replied. At Spike's scoff, Angel rolled his eyes before leaning into the wall. "Well, at least I wanted to help you."

"I actually had a goal," Spike said, drawing out a small sword from the back of his pants and dropping it on the small table. "Just to make things clear."

"You came to kill me," Willow deadpanned. She wasn't going to ask it. She knew it was more than she deserved.

"I didn't," Angel said quietly. "He may have."

"Well, if you want to do it, just do it?"

"Why?" Spike asked, stepping forward. "Why should we kill you just so you can get out of this?"

"I'm not going to bother explaining myself to you," Willow said, forcing her voice to remain calm. "You already know that I did wrong and I did bad and that more than ever that sword is the one way to end it all."

"And why should you die?" Spike demanded. "Why should you be lucky enough to bite it?"

"Because living is too hard," Willow said sadly, sitting on the edge of her cot. "It's… unbelievably hard to be back here, to see all of you. It hurts so bad to know that you know nothing."

"We only know what Faith told us and that isn't a bloody lot," Spike said.

"I figured you would know. Someone had to tell you."

"Buffy wouldn't."

Willow rested her head against the wall and sighed. "No, I didn't think she would."

"But we've had enough thrown in our faces to know that you did something and that something was bad."

Willow scoffed, folding her arms tightly against her chest. "You have no idea, do you?"

"Well," Angel said slowly, "if I remember correctly, I cut a deadly path through Europe, maiming and torturing and murdering… hundreds, if not thousands. People died because I became a monster and I took…" His face suddenly wore a dark look. "I took great pleasure in doing what I did. I took pride in it. I was the best."

"That sounds familiar," Willow stammered.

"And then, at the height of my time, I was cursed. They gave me a soul. I was forced to live with everything I had done, with every person I killed. When I slept at night, they were all around me, cursing me to hell for what I had done. But I didn't need to be cursed to hell. I lived hell and breathed it every single day. For over a hundred years, I have endured this. After all this time, it's why I live."

"Why?" Willow dared to ask.

"Because it's supposed to hurt," Angel murmured, sitting down on the one chair inside the closet. "You're supposed to feel pain. If it were easy, you could just live through it, breezing through the day. You wouldn't need protection by an entire group of Slayers from those Jedi willing to storm down the doors and take your head from things you have done."

"It's not like I haven't felt pain, too," Spike said defensively. "Even without the chip or the soul, I killed Slayers. I murdered innocent. I did it for pleasure. Even if I haven't had to live with it for as long as restoration boy here… I still do."

"Then why do you live? All you have to do is walk outside in sunlight, drive a stake through your heart. Isn't it easier?"

"It isn't right," Spike declared. "I've made a lot of poor choices in my life… and I've paid for them. The right thing to do is to make it right. You do what you can to balance out the good and bad. I've done a lot of bad and I've got a long road to go." He glanced at Angel. "So do you, peaches."

"We all have a long way to go," Angel said, resting back in the seat and eyeing Willow apprehensively. "What you did… it was terrible. You hurt a lot of people, some of whom are standing out there. And then you hurt yourself. How can you trust yourself not to do it again? How can you face those you hurt so deeply? I'll tell you why… because you have to."

"Even if you think shutting off your power is as easy as shutting off a switch, you're wrong," Spike continued. "You have to find a way to use it for your advantage."

"So, basically you're saying that why we live is because we have to."

"It may not necessarily be the smartest thing to do, but it's the right thing to do. Redemption is a long road and it's a hard road and there are so many things that can go wrong. Could you die now knowing that those you hurt would gladly have you suffer ten times what you did to them? They could have left you there to die, but they didn't."

"He wouldn't let them," Willow said, referring to Xander.

"Oh, yes, she would have," Angel smirked, referring this time to Buffy. "If she thought for one second that you deserved better, she would have left you there to pay for your sins. She would have left you there to become an echo of your former self. In light of the situation, you're lucky."

"Lucky? You call this lucky?" She felt the anguish spill out as bitter tears spilled out of clammy eyes. "I…"

"You're alive."

They let her cry for a few moments in silence before Spike reclaimed his sword.

"We're not going to let you fall by the wayside," Angel finally said, rising to leave. "Even if the rest of us had to face our redemption alone… well, you're not alone here. You can lock yourself away, but it'll never really work."

"I know," Willow sniffled. "And I appreciate it. But I don't think—"

"You don't got much of a choice," Spike said quietly. "There are only a few of us who actually know what you're going through. Before you think you're alone in your pain, just know that you aren't. There are others who are suffering. Buffy, for one. There are Jedi still reeling from whatever executive order that killed off most of theirs… I'm not sure on the specifics, but it sounded like an extermination to me."

Willow nodded silently and looked away. "Please…" she finally forced out. "I'd like to be alone now."

"Just take it day by day," Angel said in his soothing tone. "Maybe someday it won't seem so apocalyptically bad."

Willow choked out a laugh as she looked up at the vampires with red-rimmed eyes. "Do you want to know what I did?"

"We know that you—"

"I hurt Buffy in ways I can't begin to imagine as me," Willow murmured. "I ordered the death of her fiancé and her family. Yeah," she said, watching as both vampires looked somewhat crestfallen, "she was engaged. She had a daughter and a stepson. I tried to hurt her brother by turning him into a Sith robot. I…"

"We know, Red," Spike said quietly. "If you ever need someone to talk to… someone with more appreciation for the darkness than carpenter boy and the witch, you know where to find us. If all else fails…"

"I'm not going to use my powers," Willow said vehemently.

"We're not saying you use them now… but when the time comes, you'll need to use them without tapping into those Black Witch powers you're so fond of. Tara will help you, she already promised she would."

At her dark look, Angel quickly reached for the door knob. "It's okay, we're leaving, we're leaving." Without another word, they both left.

Taking a deep breath, Willow moved into her bedroom, collapsed on her bed and let out a long breath. What they had said made sense. She had to live to make up for what she did. She had a feeling that her mortality would come into play though, but what use was she now? She was just a fallen Sith Lady with a lot of dark memories and a lot of pain.

But slowly, surely… she was going to have to process it. She was going to have to deal with it. It was the only way she could live.

- - - -

_end_


	3. Year 1: A House is Not A Home

**Exiled**

**Disclaimer: **Owner by Joss Whedon, George Lucas and the master of this crossover, Drew Niehaus.

**Notes: **Continuing in Year One…

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_A House is Not a Home_

_She wasn't home… home was where she could rest. How could this be a home?_

"How are you holding up?"

Buffy glanced up at her brother. Smiling slightly, she moved her body over so he could drop next to her. She was sitting in the gazebo, one of the small reprieves from the tense atmosphere. It was where she had been going the past few weeks just to get away from everyone and everything. But it seemed that no matter how many times she'd disappeared, someone always found her. She had a slight feeling that they drew straws to see which one would come see her this time around.

Apparently Anakin had lost.

"I'm okay," she said as Anakin sat next to her. "Each day gets a little bit better."

"Good," Anakin said, slipping his arm over her shoulders. "But I think you should know that some of us are worried about you."

"Yesterday it was Faith," Buffy said, unable to hide her smirk. "Today it's you. We've had Padmé this week and Dawnie and… ooh, we even had Obi-Wan. Trust me, I'm alive, I'm kicking and I'm even out here enjoying the grungy Ohio landscape!"

Anakin didn't look convinced. Buffy sighed and shook her head. "Faith told me that you held back yesterday when you sparred. Dawn said that you couldn't look her in the eye and kept making vague references to high school. Padmé said you didn't say a word and pretended to be lethargic. And Obi-Wan…"

"Oh, that Ben, always complaining about something," Buffy murmured.

"We're worried about you, Buffy," Anakin said quietly. "We've been here for a few months now. So far you've threatened the life of Lord Ambroise-Bellairs at least twice a week. You've gone out patrolling alone, might I add, when there are perfectly capable substitutes around you. And you're shutting us out. You're shutting _me _out. Since when do you shut me out? You had your vision and you came to me playing the intervention card. It's time to do the same for you."

She was quiet for a while before she shrugged. "Xander wants me to forgive Willow."

"What?"

"I can't do it," she said tightly. "He asked me to talk to her but I… I don't have anything to say."

"Buffy—"

"This was supposed to be my time, you know? I was supposed to regroup and figure things out. I didn't think I was going to face this so fast."

"Your friends are an interesting group," Anakin chuckled. "They're just concerned for you."

"They're worried about _me?_ What about Willow, the one they won't stop coddling? Apparently my pain means nothing to them. They call this a home but what the hell kind of home is this?"

"Buffy—"

"This is a house. It's not a home. A home is where you feel at peace and where you find sanctuary."

Anakin rested his hand gently on her shoulder. "This isn't a home, dear sister. This is a hiding place. We are in exile, the Jedi. You are a Jedi. This isn't permanent."

"It's unbelievable being back here," Buffy murmured under her breath, looking around. "The memories of these people are so strong. I missed them so much and now, after being here for a few months… I think I'd have more fun facing Palpatine."

A dark look spread across Anakin's face. "I know I wouldn't."

"It's just that… after everything we've been through, we need a sanctuary. We don't need this."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "I don't know about you, but I think I like this lifestyle."

"That's because _everyone _loves you."

"You mean everyone carrying a significant amount of estrogen under the legal age loves me," Anakin muttered. "Someone's going to have to say something to them."

"Hmm… somebody might," Buffy said, a hint of a teasing smile on her face.

"Not to mention we're still awaiting word on whether or not we'll see our children again."

Buffy gave him a sad smile. "You'll see them again. And when you do… don't waste a moment. Every single moment should be as precious as the first."

"Buffy, I'm sorry… I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay," Buffy said, glancing out over the duck pond in the distance. "It gets easier day after day."

"Maybe you should tell them all. I mean, there are only a few who knew about your daughter."

"I think they all know by now," Buffy sighed. "But I think the right thing to do is to put all of my energies into training Dawn."

"She's lucky, you know. Even if she messes everything up, even if everything falls apart… you will never give up on her."

"I never did," Buffy echoed. They both sat in silence a few moments longer. "You know," she spoke up after a few minutes of silence, "you don't have to sit here and keep me company."

"I don't mind," Anakin said quickly.

"No, no… go spend some time with your wife. I'm sure she misses you and I know that Sir Nigel has been keeping her busy. I don't think he'll ever find a better negotiator."

Anakin's face immediately warmed at the thought of his wife's skills. Despite her anguish over the past year, they were finally getting their marriage back on track. They were learning to trust one another again. It was a wonderful feeling. Though Buffy's exile was less than welcome, Anakin knew that this sanctuary was saving him.

"Okay," he said, smiling at her and rising. "I'll go. But if you need me…"

"I know where to find you."

He grinned down at her, mussed her hair and swept off. As he strolled away, she couldn't help but smile. As she breathed out, her throat constricted and she looked down and away. A single figure was standing at the duck ponds waiting for her. Xander.

"Have a good chat with your brother?" he asked and, without preamble, took the seat Anakin had vacated. "Buffy, about—"

"I don't want to talk about Willow," she said coldly. "I don't want to talk about the good times. I don't want to deal with how hurt Willow is or how apologetic Willow is or even how badly Willow feels. I don't care about Willow… not like you do."

"Buffy, what—"

"You can't seriously expect me to talk to her."

"Tara does," Xander said defensively.

"Tara didn't live through what I did, Xander. She didn't face what I did. And I know that no matter what I say, you won't listen to me anyway. You have this penchant for saving people, this I know. I also know that you love Willow more than anything. But you have to understand that over there, she wasn't Willow. She was this dark, twisted, magical witch that destroyed everything she touched. She would have killed you. She tried to kill me. She killed my family. She tried to turn my brother. And I know if she had the chance, she would have taken the universe."

"Then why did you save her? You could have taken off her head. You could have let her fall into the river of lava. Why did you save her?"

"A Slayer is not a killer," Buffy said, looking him in the eye. "I may have done things I'm not proud of, but if I had the choice, I would choose life over death. That's why she's still alive."

"It isn't because you were friends?" Xander asked softly.

"It has nothing to do with that," Buffy said icily. "She used to be my best friend until she stabbed me in the back. She took something from me," her voice trailed off as she touched her glistening arm. "I so wanted to save her, to turn her back. But the more she went into it, the more I realized that it wasn't because she was my friend, it was because I wanted her to know that I was better than her. And I am." Seeing the shocked look on Xander's face, she chortled before looking away. "I don't kill for pleasure."

"That wasn't her."

"Are you so sure about that?" Buffy asked him humorlessly. "If you ask her about it, is she so willing to be all comfort buddies? No…she won't. She can't talk about it. She's not my friend anymore. She's someone I used to know that wears my friend's face. The person underneath has changed, Xander. I've changed."

Xander slowly pressed his hands to his eyes, moaning under his breath.

"Don't ask me to talk to her, Xander. Don't ask me to forgive her. Maybe someday I can talk to her, but it'll be a long time coming. It's my choice. Just like she made the choice to become what she was."

"No, don't say that about her," Xander said, his voice suddenly tight.

"If you can't say that about her, you don't really know her at all," Buffy replied. "Face it, Xan… we grew up when we were away. We evolved. I became a Jedi and she didn't."

"Buffy, just because I've been spending a lot of time with Willow doesn't mean that I don't care about what happens to you."

"Really?"

"You were my best friend, too. You were my leader. Everyone used to look up to you for guidance. After you and Wil left… it was like nothing could ever get better because the two women I loved most in this world were dead. I know she hurt you. I can't begin to imagine how much. Tara told me what you told her, Buffy. I know you talked to her. I know you told her almost everything."

"Xander please, don't placate me. I'm tired. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find my sister." She stood up and walked out of the gazebo, wrapping a blanket tighter around her shoulders as she fought to hold in her emotions. She couldn't hear him apologize to her. It sounded like he wanted to. But she didn't want him to. If she let him apologize, then that would mean the pain would lessen. He made his choice when he went to Willow first. He had to live with that choice.

And she had to live with hers, too. Because she wasn't ready to forget.

- - - -

_end_

- - - -

Next... Year two begins!

I wanted to post these before he got too far ahead in the story. They are mainly linked with a common theme. Year one was quite obvious. Year two is more... fun. 


	4. Year 2: You're Still the One

**Exiled**

**Disclaimer: **Owner by Joss Whedon, George Lucas and the master of this crossover, Drew Niehaus.

**Notes: **Beginning year two…

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You're Still the One

_This was their second chance, their time to begin anew. _

It was the vase of freshly-picked sunflowers that first caught her eye. She smiled at the simplicity of the gesture as she fixed her morning tea. It was during this time that she missed Threepio the most. He had been her companion and he made impeccable tea.

She knew Anakin was off with the Jedi already. He usually met with the Jedi that went on night patrol. She knew he was there mostly for Buffy's benefit, but she had a feeling Faith was in on it too. Anakin seemed to have a soft spot where Slayers were concerned.

She wasn't really worried about it. She'd heard the younger Slayers talking in hushed, excited whispers about how beautiful Anakin was. If it had been two years ago, she never would have doubted Anakin's heart. But now, she knew she doubted herself. After everything they had been through, she couldn't be sure anymore.

But the sunflowers were really very pretty.

After making her tea, she moved to their small living room. A small fireplace adorned one wall. The mantle had a shiny vase on it with dried flowers. There were pictures lined on the entire surface. She smiled as she saw pictures of her children. Luke and Leia were toddlers in these images. There was also a picture of Anakin and Buffy. He was towering over her and she was glaring up at him. It was a cute image and it clearly showed how close the two were.

Clearing her throat, she set the picture aside and moved to their bedroom. She needed to dress for work.

Once in her office, which was basically a corner of another office, she smiled at the shelf with the twin butterfly picture frames. These were pictures that her parents and Owen and Beru Lars had saved of her babies. Every morning when she walked in here, she looked at her pictures in the attempt to convince herself that they were doing the right thing.

"Angel?"

"Hi," Padmé said, turning around and spying her husband under the doorway. "I liked the flowers."

"They sort of reminded me of the flowers back on Naboo," Anakin said easily, striding into the office and folding her into his arms. She sighed happily as she rested her cheek against his chest.

"I wasn't aware you needed to apologize for anything though," Padmé said with a teasing smile as she pulled back, moving to her desk and sitting down.

"What?"

"The flowers. They either say I'm sorry or they're for a special occasion. I'm assuming that since there really is no occasion that—"

"Actually, there is an occasion," Anakin said slowly as he sat down on the edge of her desk. "I know it's not your birthday. Our kids are aging faster than we are. And I'm pretty sure we didn't win those lottery sweepstakes that for some odd reason we keep getting tickets for. But there is a reason and the reason is that five years ago today you told me something on the day we were going to die."

"Oh," was all Padmé could say as she looked away. She spied that there were stacks of papers and folders on her desk. She knew they were reports from the Slaying teams and budgets and proposals and everything else that Sir Nigel could throw at her. But suddenly this new job didn't seem to matter. "I'm sorry I didn't remember."

"I'm sorry I let you forget."

Padmé glanced up at him questioningly. "Annie..."

"No, Padmé," he said, taking her hand and moving around the side of her desk and dropping to his knees. "I need you to listen to me. I let things get bad between us. I was just trapped between a rock and a hard place."

"But your sister—"

"I should never have let her intervene like that," Anakin murmured. "We should have been able to work it out ourselves."

"Anakin, if she hadn't seen what she saw, you would be over there following the Empire and I would probably be dead, along with our son and daughter."

"I should have been strong enough."

"Oh, no, Annie," she whispered, using her free hand to touch his face and tip it towards hers. "Nobody can be that strong."

"But I need to be," Anakin said, desperate for her to understand.

"Anakin, you're a Jedi. No matter what happened between us, you're a Jedi first."

"It shouldn't come first," Anakin said darkly. "That's why things went bad. I was trapped by the Council into working for Palpatine and I was this close to killing my best friend, my brother… and I almost killed you. I don't want to think what would have happened if Luke or Leia—"

"But we're here now," Padmé comforted him as he bent his head. "We're safe and our kids are safe and—"

"We don't know how long they'll be safe."

"Anakin, you can no more read the future than stop death," Padmé sighed, leaning back in her chair. Anakin stood quickly and began to pace, his steps becoming more and more erratic. "Don't do this to yourself. Don't—"

"We should have another child."

She felt her hand fly to her mouth before she could stop the sharp gasp. "Excuse me?"

"I just feel like we should be doing something. I mean, I'm here and you're… you're there. And I don't like it and I feel like I'm being torn apart because I love you so much that I think it's going to kill me."

"Anakin…"

"I let my duty get in the way of things before. But I'm a different person now. I know what the dark side is like. I don't want that life. Not for us and certainly not for our kids. But I need to know if I'm on the right path—"

"Anakin." Padmé stood up and moved to her husband, even as he paced back and forth in front of her.

"I almost killed you." His voice stopped her dead in her tracks. "I love you so much and in that moment…"

"I know," she whispered. "I was there, remember?"

"But how can you—"

"Because I love you," Padmé said simply, walking over and placing her hands on Anakin's arms. "I love you and I trust you and I forgive you. You'll just have to accept that. We're both growing up now, Anakin. We're learning about our place in the world. You are a Jedi. You are maybe one of the best Jedi in the history of the Order. A wife couldn't be prouder. And now that they're relaxing the rules on Jedi marrying… you can have your duty and you can have your family, too."

"Right now, I don't have a family. Half of my heart and my soul have been ripped out and are on Tatooine and Naboo. I can't stand this," he said, walking over to the pictures on her shelf and holding one out. The picture of an infant Luke stared back at Padmé, bitterly reminding her of the sacrifices they both had made.

"We made this choice," Padmé replied, taking the picture and placing it lovingly back on the shelf. "We made it together. This is for the best. When the time is right, our children will be back with us. Until then, perhaps we should concentrate on our lives here instead of procreating."

Anakin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "But… are you even happy here?"

"Yes."

Anakin nearly ground his teeth in frustration as he sat down. "How can you be happy here knowing we're safe here and they're out there?" he asked in irritation.

"Because our families are doing what it takes to keep our babies safe, Anakin. The next time we see them, they will be talking. They will say mommy and daddy and they will look at us and they will know. It will be a most beautiful moment and one I can't wait for. And yes, I am happy here. The Watcher's Council is no Senate of the Republic, but I'm doing what I love best and that's standing up for the freedoms of others."

"You do seem happy," Anakin admitted in a small voice.

"So are you," Padmé smiled. "You're at peace here. You're well within your element. You're beloved by all of the younger Slayer females. You have two sisters here who adore you. And I'm not going anywhere."

"Padmé, my family is my life. I would never do anything consciously to hurt you again. Or Buffy or even Dawn, how little I know her. But I do know one thing: I would die to protect you."

"I believe you." Padmé moved away from him, her hand trailing on her desk. "I wish I could say the same for my family. But it doesn't matter," she said, gazing at Anakin with eyes too bright for her temperament. "You're my family now and you're what's important to me. Five years ago today I told you I loved you. That hasn't changed. You can't get rid of me that easily, no matter how many Slayers are plotting my assassination."

"I just want things to be okay again."

"They're fine the way they are," Padmé replied. "In fact, it's better here. The Jedi aren't trying to pressure you here. Those who kept trying to push you aside are gone now. There are new Jedi in charge, including your sister and Obi-Wan. They believe in you more than anything."

"Maybe I just needed to hear it from you. I just need to know I'm doing the right thing."

"We've been here a little over a year now, Annie," Padmé smiled as she took her seat again. "We've got a few left. I must say, I don't mind this. There are no pressures. There's nothing here to hold us back."

"Just you and me and love," Anakin beamed, remembering their conversation on Coruscant, on the one night he remembered thinking that it could never be possible again. "There are no politics here, no war, no plotting, no… it's just you and me."

"And love," Padmé said with a dramatic whisper as Anakin swept her up into his arms. After a moment, she started giggling. "Anakin?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Someone is going to see us."

"It's not like they haven't seen anything like this before," Anakin chuckled, twirling her around. Padmé let out a shriek, tapping at her arms. He obligingly put her down and once she was on her two feet, she pushed him playfully away from her. "You know," he said, watching as she put the desk between them, "this is kind of nice. We don't have to hide anymore."

Padmé couldn't resist smiling at that. She was so used to doing everything in secret and watching her tongue around anyone that could destroy the fragile balance and explosive instability that was their relationship and marriage. The freedom of being together without anyone standing there to tear them apart was just exhilarating.

"Do you have meetings all day?" Anakin asked suddenly.

"I'm not sure. I'll have to wait for Mr. Giles to tell me what's up today."

"If you have time later… do you want to have dinner?"

"Dinner?" she asked in a higher, flirty tone.

"I was thinking a little picnic, some of that pink wine you love, a warm blanket and…" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a chain. "I'd appreciate it if you wore this."

He opened his fist and a tiny pendant fell out. Padmé felt her heart swell as she reached out to touch it. "Oh, Annie…"

"You know, because this is our fifth anniversary of being together," Anakin said, taking Padmé's hand and turned her around. He unclasped the necklace and placed it around her neck. "I know it's a star. And I know—"

"Where do you get the funding for this?" she asked breathlessly, staring at her reflection in the small mirror. She couldn't stop touching the pendant. "You know I have no use for trinkets!"

"Because you're worth every penny that cost and it cost a fair few," Anakin replied, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I love you. You're my girl and you probably always will be."

"Unless one of the Slayers finally gets her wish."

"Never happen," Anakin murmured into her neck. "You know that they could never compare to you. You'll always be my starry-eyed angel."

"Now you're just embarrassing me," Padmé teased, kissing her husband before shooing him from her office. Another Watcher stepped inside and scowled at the couple pushing each other around and moved to his desk.

"I'll see you later, then?"

"I'll be waiting."

- - - -

_end_


	5. Year 2: Three Tales of Drama and Woe

**Exiled**

**Disclaimer: **Owner by Joss Whedon, George Lucas and the master of this crossover, Drew Niehaus.

**Notes: **Continuing year two with three mini stories popped into one section. They include scene expansions and petty arguments. The third one is set a bit further in the distance than the other two.

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Three Tales of Drama and Woe

**- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -**

**Just Listen**

"You're not the first person to have told me that."

"I know I'm not."

The two men were walking outside. Xander really missed the good California winters, because Cleveland was just freezing. He shivered underneath his bomber jacket and silently admired Obi-Wan's wool coat. The older man didn't act like anything fazed him.

But he was the one that Xander had gone to. He thought about going to Anakin, but Anakin flat-out refused to talk to him. Dawn had said something about Obi-Wan being Buffy's closest friend though, so Xander knew he had to try. He had to know what Buffy refused to tell him. Though the subject of Willow was still a tense subject with most of the Jedi, Obi-Wan seemed to be the only one willing to open up on the subject.

They had just spent a few hours at a coffee shop and the long walk back to headquarters talking. Or, rather, Obi-Wan talked and Xander just listened.

Finally, Obi-Wan stopped talking and sighed deeply. "She will not be pleased I shared this with you."

"Please," Xander scoffed. "She's one of my best friends."

"She used to be your best friend," Obi-Wan corrected politely. "Or one of them. A lot has changed. She has changed."

"You just told me," Xander quipped before pausing. "I never knew she went through that much."

"And that's all I knew," Obi-Wan said honestly. "I don't know much of her time spent with Jacen. But I do know that she was happy and, in a way, she was complete."

Xander blinked a few times. "And all this time you let me babble about wanting Buffy to forgive Willow for everything she did."

"I do not believe that will ever happen."

"Even if she never forgives her, do you think they'll be able to talk again?"

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment. In his heart, the woman he knew would eventually lower her barriers and lower her guard around Willow. Buffy and Willow had been friends for a great long while before he even met her. If it had been anyone else, he would have thought they stood no chance. But this was Buffy. He had a great deal of faith in her being able to put the differences aside when it really mattered.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "Willow truly hurt her and she has a lot to be angry about."

"You don't think it's more about fear, do you?" Xander asked curiously. "I mean, what if she's afraid that if she loves Willow, she'll just go evil again?"

"I don't really think that's ever occurred to her," Obi-Wan replied, rolling his eyes. "I think the past is what's hurting her now. But I'll also admit that that thought never occurred to me."

"You have no idea how much it sucks for me to be pitted friend against friend," Xander ground out. "I feel like I'm betraying one if I hang with the other. I just want them to talk again. I know that Buffy will probably never forgive Willow, but the least she could do is talk to her."

"I might mention it," Obi-Wan said slowly, glancing at Xander like the boy was growing two heads. "She will likely not take to it."

"She can be stubborn."

"Oh yes," Obi-Wan said with a secretive smile, "she can be."

Xander narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the look on Obi-Wan's face. "What's going on between you two, anyway?"

Obi-Wan looked at the younger man in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"It's just… I see things. Like whenever she's miserable, you're always there. When a fight breaks out between the Council and Buffy, you're there to simmer down the situation. It's like you anticipate these things and suddenly you're at her side."

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment. And then he started laughing. It seemed like the sensible thing to do. (end)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**Say Something**

"Ben! Ben, I know you're in there! BEN! Damn it!"

She heard a crash and a muffled sound inside before something smashed into the door and pulled it open. "Buffy, what--?"

"What in the sphincter of _hell _did you say to Xander?" Buffy demanded, pushing past Obi-Wan and storming into his apartment.

"Come on in," he muttered quietly as he closed the door. Turning back to the other Jedi, she was pacing back and forth and muttering furiously to herself. "I told him the truth."

"Why? Why in God's name would you do something so stupid?" she demanded, storming up to him. Obi-Wan folded his arms protectively against her chest and backed away, his eyes apprehensively glued to her golden arm. "He expects me to talk to Willow. To talk to that… that witch!"

"Well, is he entirely out of line?" Obi-Wan asked mildly. If she didn't look so dangerous, he would have found this entire situation amusing. "He's trapped, Buffy. He came to me."

"And you just had to spill out all of my secrets, didn't you?" Buffy asked, stomping away. "I don't know what to think of this. I never thought that you would be the one to hurt me like this!"

"I just want to clear one thing," Obi-Wan said calmly, walking over to her and gripping her shoulders. "Willow is the one that hurt you. None of us who have spoken to your friends have betrayed you. We have stood up for you for the past year. But things have to change, Buffy. Are you angry at her because under the guise of Black Magic she killed your family? Of course you are. But she needs you. Aside from those two vampires, you are the only one who can understand what she has been through."

"Of course I am," Buffy shouted. "Because I was there! I saw it happen in my vision and it did!"

"You would have died to save her," Obi-Wan said, his voice rising above her shouts. "But you couldn't… die, I mean. When you fought her, it was to the death. Would you have killed her? I have no doubt. But you can still save her."

"What's the point of trying?" she asked tearfully. "Ben, she could just go evil on all of us again. This nightmare is never going to end."

"I'm not asking you to forgive her," Obi-Wan said in a comforting voice as her face crumpled and she turned away, pressing a hand to her eyes. "But I am going to ask you, as a friend, to talk to her. You miss her. You miss the way things used to be so I don't want you to deny anything. I just want you to say something."

She felt his hand on her shoulder as she struggled to pull herself together. "It's hard being back here in this old life," she murmured. "It's hard being here and not having Willow be a part of it. I know Tara and Spike and Angel are all working to get her balance back. But I—"

"You are the strongest woman I know," Obi-Wan said. "She has a very good reason to look to you and that is just a part of it. What happened in the past is in the past. Don't talk about the past. This is your future, Buffy. Yours _and _hers. I don't expect you two to bake cakes and talk shop, but I just want you to say something."

"I can try," Buffy said, resolution swelling within her. "I will try."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan replied.

As she turned to leave, a sudden struck hit her and she turned back to the Jedi who righting a table he had knocked down and tripped over on his way to answer the door. "Ben… why do you care?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why do you care if Willow and I ever talk again?"

"Because what I'm getting is that she was an important person in your prior life, the life you had before you became a Jedi. Even if you'll never be as close again, there has to be something other than mortal enemies. You counted on your friends more than anything. It isn't fair you don't have that anymore."

"But I do," Buffy smiled. "I have you… and Anakin and Padmé and Dawn and Roan and—"

"I understand what you are trying to say," Obi-Wan said, walking over and wrapping his arms around his friend. She gave a humorless laugh as she hugged him back. "You are a dear friend, Master Skywalker. We are far lucky to have a friend like you. Whenever we need you, you're always there."

Her smile suddenly turned confused as she stepped away from him. "I could say the same for you," she tossed back before turning on her heel and leaving his quarters, leaving Obi-Wan to his silent thoughts. (end)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**Friday Night Fights**

"Whatcha doing?"

"I'm getting ready."

"Ready for what?"

"What's it to you?" Faith asked in annoyance, turning on her sister Slayer who stood smirking in the doorway to the bathroom.

"Faith's got a da-ate," Buffy said in a singsong voice.

"Buffy's getting her ass kicked," Faith mimicked back as she struggled to pull her hair through the small loop and kick out at the blonde Jedi at the same time. "What are you doing tonight?"

"I thought I'd go on patrol," Buffy said innocently.

"So not your job anymore."

"I so don't care anymore," Buffy teased. "Besides, I'm bringing back-up with me this time."

"Really? Who? The little old Jedi man who keeps following you around?"

"Obi-Wan? Err, no. Why would I take him on patrol? The only time he did that he bitched because he had to carry my sword."

Faith snorted under her breath as she finally got her hair to behave and bellowed triumphantly, staring at her reflection in shiny black leather. "You so love him."

"No, I really don't," Buffy said quietly, walking in and straightening the back of Faith's corset. "And you look like you're getting some tonight."

"Hmm… funny thing," Faith murmured seductively, running her hands down along her curves. "I don't see you getting any."

"That's because I'm only a few years away from forty."

"Old people have sex all the time," Faith said. Buffy suddenly choked and grasped at her heart.

"What? I'm sorry, I think I just had a heart attack…"

"You should come out with me sometime, B. You know, to get some."

"You know what I missed most of all about you, Faith?" Buffy asked, amused. "I definitely missed your witty euphemisms that turn dirty within seconds."

"And I missed your stodgy goody-goody comments about being all like a virgin," Faith smirked as she wrapped her newer leather jacket around her slim body. "God, I look hot tonight."

"You really do."

"I still think you should come clubbing with me. Though I'm the senior Slayer, it's a perk to go to the local nightclubs."

"In Cleveland," Buffy deadpanned. "You do realize we're in Boring, Ohio, right?"

"Night life is good here, B," Faith said cheekily. "It's like a crossroads between the addictive New York nightlife, the brotherly nightlife of Philly, the creepy cross of nightlife in Pittsburgh and Chicago's sort of dry mix life."

"Hmm, did you get an actual sample of that?" Buffy teased as she came next to Faith.

"There are some great sixty forty places out there."

"A… what?"

"You know… sixty-year-old men, well-endowed and quite wealthy looking for the forty-year-old divorcee crowd?"

"Except I'm not divorced. If anything, I'd be in the forty-year-old widow club."

Faith paused for a moment before turning around. "I'm sorry, B. I wasn't thinking."

"That's okay," Buffy said, eyeing the doorway gratefully. "Anyway, tomorrow, ten o'clock?"

"Better make it eleven," Faith replied with a wink.

"Oh, don't worry. If I can't get the Slayers to attack you in the morning with their version of fifteen thousand questions, I'll sic the Jedi on you… you know, mind control, meditation, yoga… that kind of stuff."

"You're evil."

"You're late."

"Oh, shit," Faith cried, glancing at the small digital clock over the mirror. Glancing at herself one last time, she spun around only to find that Buffy had left. She rushed back into her room to grab her boots. She had to make it to the side door before her date did… or worse, before the Slayers did. She didn't want her date to pick her up and be confronted by people carrying axes and swords. She didn't want to scare him off… yet. As she stumbled down the hallway attempting to zip up her boots, she saw something that made her stop dead in her tracks.

Buffy, Willow, Xander and Giles were standing in the doorway with weapons.

Faith stared at them for a moment in disbelief. "Oh, why do I always have to miss all the fun?"

- - - -

_end_


	6. Year 2: Accidentally In Love

**Exiled**

**Disclaimer: **Owner by Joss Whedon, George Lucas and the master of this crossover, Drew Niehaus.

**Notes: **This was one of two that I actually sent to Naitch. I think I love this one… continuing in year two!

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_Accidentally in Love_

_Xander Harris and Aayla Secura… who would have thought?_

It happened so suddenly.

One moment Xander had been rewiring something or other in the gym when she had walked in. At first it was just like any other ordinary day. But today seemed different somehow. He glanced up from his spot on the ladder and suddenly… their eyes met.

He would call it one of the most memorable moments of his young life. She had continued on her way and he had stood there on the ladder for a moment before he realized he was standing on a ladder. Before he could regain his balance, he had fallen with a crash onto the gym floor. The ladder had clattered on the other side. Despite the loud, echoing noise, the only people who called him on his mishap were a group of passing Slayers.

That had been the beginning. He had done other things as well. He had offered to fix her windows. He had volunteered to build her a bookcase for her growing collection of books. He stood by to listen as she recounted vague tales of someone named Quinlan Vos. He picked her up the necessary skincare supplies when she developed a rash from Dawn's inept cooking. He volunteered to help her with the reports she had to file when the head of the Watcher's Council got on her back. He even fixed and sharpened all of the weapons she used while out on patrol.

And after four months, she still hadn't caught on.

It was something that Willow and Buffy teased him about one night during a movie night in Willow's tiny apartment.

"I think you've given her all the appropriate signs," Buffy said as she stretched her legs out on the floor and reached back for a bowl of popcorn. "The only thing you haven't done is serenade her."

"Don't do that," Willow smirked, a fond look in her eyes as she remembered Xander's lack of singing talent. "You might scare her off."

"Ha, ha," Xander mumbled, rolling his eyes as he snatched his soda from Willow's end table.

"Have you tried flirting?"

"Do Twi'lek's know how to flirt?" Willow mused.

Buffy nearly snorted out her soda, setting the glass aside. "They do even better than that."

A sudden knowing look spread across Willow's face and his two best friends turned to him with identical evil grins.

"What?" he asked, forcing his tone to sound innocent enough.

"They have _drives_, Xander," Buffy said, choosing her words carefully. "Lustful drives."

"Something tells me that'll be the least of your worries," Willow said, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Sure," Xander said sarcastically. "The fact that she's a Jedi and the fact that she's blue have nothing to do with it."

"Compared to your normal taste in women, Aayla is positively a positive," Buffy affirmed, handing the popcorn over to Xander. "She's stable, mentally secure and she's one hell of a fighter."

"She has to be unique," Willow added, her voice slightly strained, "as she's one of the few Jedi who can stand to look at me."

Xander turned to his dearest friend, reaching for her hand. "Come on, Will… you have to stop thinking like that."

"It's hard to forget," Willow said edgily, shrugging her shoulders.

"Have you ever heard the enemy of my enemy is my friend?" Xander asked lightly, his thumb passing over the smooth skin on the back of her hand. He glanced over at Buffy, who wore her normal resolve face and wasn't going to add in her input. Sighing, he wrapped his arm around Willow's shoulder. "I don't know how we got onto that topic anyway; you guys were teasing me about my taste in women."

"I seem to recall an incident with the Inca mummy girl," Buffy murmured in a teasing voice, her eyes twinkling as she saw Xander.

"And Cordelia," Willow snickered.

"So you have dated beautiful women. One just happened to suck the life out of every guy she made out with," Buffy reasoned, "and the other was just… Cordelia."

"I liked Anya," Willow said suddenly.

"Okay, guys… Inca girl is mummified… Cordelia's living the grand life on the mystical plane and Anya… Anya…"

"We know," Willow said, returning the comforting gesture of taking his hand.

"You weren't there," he said, his tone trembling for the first time in a long while. "You didn't see…"

"We've heard the truth though," Buffy said, her voice losing the self-righteous attitude. "And though we've been gone a long time, we remember how you felt about her."

"All in all, dear Jedi Master Secura isn't looking too dangerous."

Xander released a breath just as Buffy and Willow launched into a debate over his failed love spell to destroy Cordelia and thereby gaining the attention of every single female within a thirty-mile radius.

But deep inside, he was thinking about the one thing he knew he may never have… one cerulean-hued Twi'lek Jedi Master.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In the following weeks, however, things appeared to have changed. Almost overnight he became a symbol of compassion and courage by Slayers and Jedi alike. No one quite treated the Jedi and Slayers like Xander did. No one made sure that they were dressed warm enough or covered enough of their extremities to stay out of sight of normal humans.

As Buffy continued to remind him, Jedi following the old Council rules had no emotional detachments because they led to anger, jealousy and hate. It wouldn't take much for the younger Knights and Padawans to follow the new Council's rules, but for the elder Masters it would take time. Aayla simply wasn't reciprocating his kind advances. And Buffy had it drilled into his head that maybe Aayla just wasn't clued in.

Aside from broadcasting his feelings openly, Xander decided to keep them in.

He had to admit that other human-Jedi relations were going okay. After the semi-disastrous date between Dawn and Zett had collapsed, they had managed to get it together.

But he wasn't altogether certain he wanted someone with 'lustful drives' seeing him stark outside the shower. He wasn't ready for that yet.

Towards the end of the second year of the Jedi's exile on Earth, Xander was called once again in the middle of the night to help take care of cracked walls caused by another sparring match between Slayers and Jedi.

He stumbled into the new gymnasium, squinting around at the group of Jedi and Slayers standing around the blue-skinned Twi'lek. Kennedy stood next to Aayla, verbally berating the Slayers for their childish behavior.

Xander let out a low whistle; despite Kennedy's spoiled brat attitude their first year of training the Potentials, she really was turning out to be a dependable leader. He was somewhat happy Faith wasn't present. Slayers would be lying on the gym floor and bleeding if Faith had gotten involved.

There was a crack in one of the walls and a window had been smashed open. The floor was cracked where someone had been thrown.

He barely stepped aside to let the medical team in. They went immediately to the sole figure lying on the ground.

With barely-concealed anger, Xander realized it was one of the newest Padawans sent out on patrol. A moment later, a hush fell over the room as Faith stomped in.

"What's this?"

"An accident, nothing more," one of the Slayers said in a low, nervous tone.

Aayla turned to face Faith, who was standing with her hands on her hips and glaring fiercely at the group of nine. "How about you? Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"It was a simple accident," Aayla said smoothly, waving her hand slightly. "It was nothing more."

Faith shrugged a moment later before turning to Kennedy. "You got things under control?"

"Nothing I haven't handled before," Kennedy said, barely managing to restrain a sigh.

"Good girl," Faith murmured before stomping right back out.

Xander, perplexed as to why the Slayers got off so easily, turned to face Aayla as she and another Knight helped the young Padawan up. "Why didn't you tell her the truth?" he asked.

"Because we are peacekeepers," Aayla said quietly. "I didn't want any more trouble."

"And _you_," Xander said, turning to the Slayer who had just breathed a sigh of relief. "If I had seen you do that to her, I would have given you to Angel or Spike for a night."

The Slayer paled visibly. Normally hunting with the two vampire representatives of the Watcher's Council meant watching the two vampires feed on animals and waiting on them hand and foot. It had been an appropriate punishment developed during the Jedi's first year of exile. Whenever the Slayers and the Jedi argued, the Slayers would be punished by waiting on their vampire allies. The Jedi's punishment meant meditation, extra training and, for the Masters and elder Knights, a more significant contribution to the Council.

"Well, maybe if she'd been watching our backs instead of showing off…"

Xander moved forward, reaching for the Slayer, but Kennedy suddenly had him by the arms and was pulling back. "Xander, no!"

"You could have killed her," Xander thundered. "Why would you do something like that?"

"Chill out," another Slayer murmured. "Come on, Xander…"

"What's wrong with trying to protect an endangered order?" Xander challenged the Slayer, who looked away.

"Okay, now really…" Kennedy said, trying in vain to regain control of the situation. "You, Slayers… to bed. We'll talk this over in the morning." Swallowing hard, she turned to the three Jedi supporting their injured Padawan. "If you need help, head to the infirmary. Since we started making supply runs, we've got the bay fully stocked with all of your medical needs." Taking a deep breath, she turned last to Xander. "I'm sorry if they offended you, but—"

"I would have thought that by now these childish games would have stopped," Xander cut in briskly.

"Xander, I'm _sorry_," the Slayer said earnestly. "Really, I am."

"Just follow Kennedy's orders and go to bed," Xander said in a tired voice.

As the Slayers trooped off, followed moments later by the Jedi heading down to the infirmary, Xander began the arduous task of cleaning up.

What he didn't realize is that he wasn't alone.

"You should not have done that."

Xander glanced up over the plaster he'd been sweeping and shrugged. "It didn't fit right. You guys are outnumbered and yet—"

"These matters were not yours to take."

"As I said, I don't like it when they pick on the smaller guy."

"You should have left the matters in our capable hands. It was a small accident, hardly anything worth noticing."

"If that had happened on one of your Jedi missions, what would you have done?"

"I would have done my duty."

"And?" he prompted her.

"You shouldn't have to defend us, Xander. We are supposed to be peaceful."

"Yeah, you're peaceful. Look at where that got you."

Aayla paused, a brief flash of hurt in her eyes before she looked down. "I would have thought—"

"I'm sorry," he sighed after a moment, glancing up and wiping the sweat off of his face. "I shouldn't have said that… it was stupid of me."

"You are far from stupid, Xander."

"It still wasn't the nicest thing. I was just upset. I get that way sometimes."

As he was working, he could feel her standing close to him. He wished she wouldn't stand so close. It was making him nervous. Despite this was the moment he wanted to happen most of all, it couldn't have come at a worse time.

"It really was an accident."

Her tone made it sound like an apology.

"Don't worry about it," he said, waving his hand as he stood up, brushing plaster dust from his knees. "It isn't like you really get it anyway."

"What don't I get?"

He paused a moment, panting as he stared at her face. And what a face it was… enhanced by the sharp lines, the cerulean hue seemed to stand out. At a moment he was at a loss for words. And then he shook his head. "Forget it."

"Xander, I…"

"I'm going to bed," Xander replied, moving to leave the gym.

"What you did for us… what you said… thank you."

Xander stopped and turned back, smiling slightly as the Twi'lek moved towards him. A moment later her lips were on his cheek.

Something inside him seemed to break. As much as he longed to turn his face and catch her by the lips, he held steady with a simple kiss on the cheek. She moved away, her hand reaching up to touch his cheek.

Dazed, he reached up and placed his hand over his bare cheek, still tingling from the contact. "You're welcome."

Before he could leave, she called him back again.

"If you are looking for another project, I could really use assistance with the new doors in my quarters."

"I'd really like to help you," Xander said, unable to resist a cheeky grin.

"I am done with training at noon," she added, giving him a rather curious look. Recalling what Buffy and Willow had snickered about Twi'lek drives he cleared his throat and began backing out of the gym.

"I'll be there."

Her gentle smile was all he needed to see to realize that finally something was moving forward instead of standing still. He heard her slight laughter as he left the gym as he beamed at nothing in particular. It was a far cry from a first date, but it was a start.

He couldn't help that he accidentally fell in love with her now… could he?

- - - - - - - - - - -

end


	7. Year 2: Come As You Aren't

**Exiled**

**Disclaimer: **Owner by Joss Whedon, George Lucas and the master of this crossover, Drew Niehaus.

**Notes: **Unlike the last fic, I sort of borrowed these characters for my own amusement without permission. This is the last (and longest!) story of the Year Two series.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_Come As You Aren't_

_Zett and Dawn's first date… on Halloween…_

"And you're sure he's okay with this?"

"Yes, mom, he's okay with this."

Vi sighed as she watched Dawn straighten out her 'All Star' necklace that adorned the top of her shiny black top. "I'm just saying that maybe going to a party that's celebrated on a holiday that until three days ago he had no idea about... maybe it's not such a good idea."

"This is the first time we've been able to spend any time together _alone_ for the past month."

"You had to ask him out," Vi pointed out.

"Well, he did ask me out."

"You spent a half hour watching one of those smutty British sitcoms and trying to explain all the dirty euphemisms to him. That wasn't a date. That was class. You played the teacher. And you were both in robes."

"Well, bite me," Dawn snickered, reaching up to fix her hair. It was times like these that she missed her glorious long hair. The shaggy bob was starting to annoy her. Especially tonight when she had streaked it through with bright, fluorescent colors.

"You look great."

"Right," Dawn sighed, staring at her well made-up eyes critically in the mirror.

"What are you, anyway?"

"I figured I'd try a rollergirl."

"Does Zett have a clue what a rollergirl is?"

"Probably not."

"So you're giving him the slutty version of you?"

"I am not slutty," Dawn grinned, glancing down at her tight clothes. "Even if I was, I hope I'm making a good impression."

"Trying to throw the Jedi wisdom out the door, huh?" Vi asked, circling around Dawn while eyeing her friend decisively. "Your sister is going to kill you."

Dawn scoffed under her breath as she finished playing with the ripped belt. "Like she hasn't done anything stupid on Halloween before."

Vi just laughed as she walked out of the room, leaving Dawn to finish getting ready.

When she came out into the main room, she stopped dead in her tracks. Zett was standing with his back to her. He was wearing a long clock. "Um, hi," she announced herself as she strolled into the room, her roller skates over her shoulder. Zett turned, took one look at her and blinked. "You're speechless."

"You're… not yourself."

"This is come as you aren't night," Dawn said defensively, dropping her skates as she wrapped her arms around her bare midriff. "And you're going as you are?"

"Your clothing is entirely inappropriate for going out," Zett argued. "But you do look… cute."

Dawn slowly loosened her grasp on her abdomen and let out a nervous chuckle. "It's just a costume. I'm a rollergirl. I'm a punk-happy girl who wears shredded clothes and skates around."

"I see," he said, slowly advancing on her. Dawn felt her breath catch and it wasn't from his nearness. Despite his rather plain Jedi robes, he was wearing dress shoes. That had to be a plus. A moment later, they collected their coats and left.

- - - - - - - - - -

Twenty minutes later, they stood in front of a huge house. Large outdoor speakers blasted out sounds of people shrieking as though in dire agony along with the sound of some man laughing evilly. Zett stared sidelong at Dawn who was staring at the house in wonder. "Shall we?" he asked, handing her his arm.

"Let's do it."

Once inside, Zett was struck by the plethora of women wearing skimpy clothing and not nearly enough to protect them from the lecherous eyes of the many males carrying overflowing punch cups. He hadn't been inside the door for a minute when someone pushed one of those punch cups into his hand. He found himself frozen, even as Dawn skated in, looking gleeful. A few people ran up to her, telling her how fantastic she looked. Zett was beginning to regret even deciding to go with her to this party, even if it was their first real date.

"Hey, Zett," she asked him, seeing how pale he looked. "You want to come meet my friends?"

"Of course," he heard himself say in a hollow voice. Why couldn't life as a Jedi have prepared him for fraternizing with such frivolous people? He felt afraid as he was steered to several bar tables on one end. A group of people were dancing next to a huge machine with flashing lights.

"Hey, guys, this is Zett," she announced cheerily. To Zett's relief, he noticed that some of the girls were Slayers. "Zett, these are the guys. And that's Char and Bella, in case you don't remember them. I went to high school with most of the people here."

Zett set the cup down and backed slowly away as Dawn skated over to the table and started talking happily. He glanced over to a group of men wrestling and jumping around on two couches. He saw women whispering to each other near a bar made of what looked like toothpicks and giggling behind their hands. He saw groups in more private corners and found his face warming at the thought of Dawn doing some of those things to _him. _

Okay, so he was slightly smitten. Enough so that he actually agreed to come to this stupid party.

"Hey there, soldier," a voice chirped in his ear. Zett spun around, reaching down to his belt before realizing he'd left his lightsaber back in his room.

"He… Hello," he stammered. She was just shiny from head to toe. Shiny blonde hair, shiny face, shiny clothes… and those shiny arms were now reaching out to touch him. He tried not to flinch at her touch but she was wiggling those hips and moving closer. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked calmly, attempting to try the Jedi method for dealing with situations like these first.

"I'm dancing!" She smiled at him, her shiny eyes positively gleaming now. Zett found his throat constricting as he was forced to move around to the awful throbbing noise pounding into his ears.

"Uh, Dawn?" Bella asked, leaning across the table where Dawn was standing and talking with two males. The brunette instantly turned and found her jaw dropping. Zett was dancing with a blonde version of Faith, complete with shiny silver spandex.

"What is he doing? I thought you were out together," another girl murmured in shock.

"He… he doesn't know what he's doing," Dawn said, setting down her plastic cup of paradise punch and skating across the floor. The closer she got to Zett, the more she struggled not to laugh. But then she froze.

Zett was actually dancing. And despite the fact the girl clinging to him was falling-out drunk, he was doing a damned good job at it.

"Hi, honey," she said brightly, throwing her arm around his shoulders and facing the blonde who turned to her with a surprised look. "I'm glad you're keeping him company, but I think I'll cut in now."

As soon as the blonde scampered off, Dawn turned to Zett who was actually looking crestfallen. "Oh, unbelievable," she snapped, drawing his attention back to her. "You never told me you could dance!"

"I can follow a beat," Zett argued, taking her hand and twirling her in front of him. "This music is rather… irritating, really."

"It's rock and roll," Dawn replied as he led her back to the table. "Where are we going? You're up for one dance and suddenly the night is off? That was supposed to be _my _dance."

"Well perhaps if you kept your fraternizations to one person for an evening instead of sharing your wealth, perhaps you would have seen that I was trapped in that situation."

Dawn was silent for a moment. It must've been the paradise punch kicking in that forced out the next words she would later kick herself for. "Maybe if you got the giant stick out of your ass, you'd see that these people aren't all bad and maybe, just maybe, you could have a good time."

The music chose that particular moment to end and all turned to see Dawn shouting at her date. Zett just stared at her passively, too Jedi to retort back and not man enough to drag her off and force her to explain herself. For a moment, she hated him.

"I'm really glad this isn't you," he said quietly as the murmur around them rose. "Because if it were, I'd be ashamed of myself for even thinking that you were worth my time."

And then she _really _hated him.

Dawn watched as he stormed off, too flummoxed to move. Even when a passing tray pushed another cup of paradise punch in her hand, she didn't resist and drank the entire thing, swaying slightly as she slammed the cup on an empty table. Her friends at the other table were staring at her with some concern. But suddenly she didn't care. She just flounced back to the bar, collected another cup of paradise punch.

Zett, meanwhile, stayed in his corner in his chair, his quiet eyes watching the entire scene. He held a cup of something that smelled more of barley in his hand but he didn't question the pretty redhead who gave it to him. If he hadn't taken it, someone would have kept following him around all night trying to push that punch on him. Judging by the heavy scents, that punch wasn't too light in the nonalcoholic sense.

He finally decided he'd had enough. He'd tried talking to other girls, but most were just trying to crawl into his lap and were touching him with what Tara called 'naughty touching', which is how she and Kennedy teased the other Slayers. The men just kept glowering at him. Most were wearing funny capes and masks with holes to breathe and eyes. One man was actually covered in false blood with eyeballs falling out of his mask and his rotten teeth bared his breath which could have sent Zett keeling over.

Rising, he set the glass back on the bar top and moved towards the door. On the way, he saw something that made his insides positively quiver. Dawn was leaning against some male who kept rubbing her neck as she giggled. Her laughter stopped as their eyes met. He saw how glossy her eyes were and he saw the numerous glasses around their cozy table for two.

How flighty was this girl?

He just shook his head at her, turned and walked out of the party.

"Zett?" Dawn asked, pushing off of the man and skating slowly forward before smashing into another table. "Zett?"

But it was too late; he was gone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Struggling home at five in the morning was not Dawn's favorite activity. She had only ever done it once and since Spike had caught her, she paid dearly. Wrapped in a blanket, she walked barefoot in the cool, dewy grass. She didn't know what happened to her roller skates, but she had a feeling that one of the wheels fell off when she fell face-first from the bar table she'd been dancing on. Her head felt like the ultimate conga line was cha-cha-cha-ing through it. All she wanted to do was sleep.

The sidewalk just a few hundred feet away from the entrance of the complex seemed like the perfect place to be. As she fell forward, her stomach decided to rebel against her for shoving copious amounts of paradise punch and beer into it, especially with little food. She thought she remembered something about skewers but was sure they just contained candy corn.

"Five vampires, five! That's got to be a new record for us," one Slayer said, swinging her battle axe on her back. The overnight patrol group, led by Vi, was returning from their exciting evening of patrolling the many Vampire-prone areas around Cleveland.

"We didn't suck," another Slayer beamed, turning to the Jedi with them that evening, Olee Starstone. "You're getting a lot better with that."

"I'm used to my lightsaber, not something so flighty as a sword," Olee said in defense of herself. She was about to comment further when she noticed the single figure lying on the sidewalk. "Oh, no…"

Vi ran forward, seeing the figure underneath what looked like a bedspread and two bare feet sticking out. It wasn't until she saw the ripped fishnet stocking did she gasp. "It's Dawn!"

"What?" Olee gasped, running alongside her until they reached the figure. A few feet away, Vi suddenly scowled.

"She's drunk."

"Really?" Olee teased, bending down next to Dawn and prodding her. The girl mumbled something incoherently before burying her cheek into the coarse blanket.

"Help me get her up," Vi said. The rest of the Slayers came forward and quickly pulled Dawn up and, propping her between the Slayer and the Jedi, they managed to get her inside.

"How long do you think she's been there?"

"She wasn't there a few hours ago," Vi said in concern. "I wonder where Zett is."

"Why would Zett know where Dawn was?"

"They went to a party together last night."

"He should be up by now… he follows that routine of his religiously," another Slayer said.

"I'll get him," Olee said, holding up her hand to the disappointed look on the younger Slayer's face. Minutes later she returned with Zett who was dressed in his normal robes. His face tensed when he saw the figure lying on the bench giggling feebly as Vi struggled to get the bedspread away from her.

"A little help wouldn't kill you, would it?" Vi asked, finally ripping the bedspread and putting the disgusting thing on the floor.

"What happened to her?" Zett asked, his anger momentarily replaced by concern.

"She's drunk, obviously," Vi retorted. Before she could explain further, Dawn suddenly sat up and stumbled between the two of them, heading for the stairs. "And I think she needs to throw up."

"I'll take care of it," Zett said, placing a hand on Vi's shoulder.

"She's _my _Watcher."

"And she's _my_…" His voice cut off as he tried to figure out what she was.

"Very smooth," Vi smirked, arching one eyebrow as Zett rolled his eyes and ran after Dawn.

An hour later, he was still holding Dawn as she hovered over the porcelain toilet bowl. "Oh, next time I'll go easy on the punch," she groaned, holding her head as she stared back at him, tears running freely from her eyes, creating a ghostly expression from all the eyeliner she'd worn. "Hi."

"Hello." His voice was frosty as she smiled at him before staring at the swirling water in the toilet bowl.

"Boy did I screw that up," she said finally.

"Screw what up?"

"Me… you… us," Dawn replied, straining forward to flush the toilet and missing completely, ending up face-first on the bathroom tile. "Need sleep."

"Let me help you."

"I treated you like shit," she giggled on the floor.

"It doesn't matter," Zett said, taking her by the shoulders and helping her to sit up. It was like trying to sit up a rag doll the way she kept swaying. "Let's get you to sleep."

"But… work…"

"I'll ask Padmé to oversee your Watcher duties for today. After all the time she's been spending on budgets, she'll welcome the respite."

As he half-carried, half-dragged the girl to her room, Dawn glanced at her bed which was suddenly made, a fresh pair of pajama pants and shirt lying on top of the pillows. Zett watched as Vi suddenly returned, pushing water into his hands and muttering something about tacos.

Zett waited until Vi had finished cleaning up and changing Dawn. When he went back into the room, she was lying in bed while Vi fussed with the curtains. "I can take it from here, Vi," he said kindly. She smiled at him before hurrying from the room, likely to catch her own bath and sleep.

He turned to Dawn who had finished the water before dropping onto her pillow. "God…"

"It'll be okay. You'll sleep it off."

"You don't have to be so nice to me," she said, turning to him with great effort. "I treated you so badly and… well, I could have started a little less instead of throwing you to the wolves."

"It wasn't all bad," Zett protested as he picked up a cooled eye mask and handed it to Dawn, who accepted it gratefully. "I got a first-hand account of why fraternizing with humans from Earth my own age is a bad idea. It was a great learning experience."

"But I…"

"When we're older, we're going to look back on this and laugh," Zett said, using a phrase he'd heard from numerous television shows. He watched as she put the mask on and pulled the blankets over her face. He took it as his cue to leave and turned towards the door.

"I think we should try again."

This stopped him. He turned back to see her holding the mask up and staring at him sleepily. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said I think we should try again. It wasn't really fair for me to take you out to something you knew nothing about."

"You… you still wish to see me?"

"Yeah," Dawn said, smirking slightly. "If at first you don't succeed, try again." Her eyes closed as she snuggled into her bed. "And I think we should define…definitely try again."

"I think I'd like that," Zett said. "But this time, could it just be the two of us at a place outside of this complex? The last party was a bit… intense."

"You could teach me how to dance," she suggested sleepily as she struggled to open her eyes.

"I think right now you need to sleep," Zett said, moving to her bedside and pressing a light kiss to her forehead. "Good night, all star."

"Good night, George," she replied. Zett stopped for a moment and shook his head in disbelief, closing the door behind him.

- - - -

_end_

Next: Year three! We finally get into more teamwork and more patrols! I don't know when I'll start posting them, but I think I'll wait until he posts his next chapter. And yes, I'll keep posting them by year.


	8. Year 3: We Are the Champions

**Exiled**

**Disclaimer: **Owner by Joss Whedon, George Lucas and the master of this crossover, Drew Niehaus.

**Notes: **We're sweeping into Year Three… there are two stories in this section. Apologies for taking so long to update, my health hasn't been the best of late. I'm trying to work out my updates and as this was almost complete, it came first on queue. On the upside, we're getting snow!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_We Are the Champions_

_A little competition never hurt anyone before…_

Faith sighed as she stared at the old white marker board she'd tagged up. One of the Slayers had taken it upon herself to start marking kills versus demons spotted. With the fact that the Watchers staff was the most competent it had even been thanks to the Jedi incursion, she saw that Slaying teams with Jedi were doing significantly better than those without.

Teams that went out with their Watchers seemed to do a good job too. Pity she hadn't yet asked Padmé out on patrol. She had a feeling that with Anakin and Padmé out there, they would be a force to reckon with. Anakin's temper was sometimes shorter than hers. She considered putting them on her team. She didn't patrol that much anymore, but it was more fun than hanging around here. Besides, it kept her in fabulous shape.

Maybe she could talk Buffy on her team. If Anakin was there, Buffy was sure to follow. Buffy had both the skills and the knowledge of Slayers and Jedi.

An idea slowly formed in her head. A friendly competition… some teamwork, some graded skills and one way to help thin out the growing demon problem. Apparently the underworld had its answer for dealing with Jedi. They had demons that could barely withstand the whole mind-moving thing. Faith never really understood it, but it was a cool skill to have. She had seen Buffy use it in frustration, Dawn use it in jest and the others basically use it because they weren't quite trusting of the Slayers.

What bugged Faith is that more than one Slayer had fallen prey to being mind-moved by the Jedi. Whatever it was called.

She quickly jotted down all the names and cut up the pieces of paper, drawing them out of three different piles depending on whether they were Jedi, Slayers or Watchers. For time's sake, she decided to throw the vampires in. They were good to have in a fair fight. She kept her own dream team together by adding Anakin, Padmé, Buffy and herself to one list. She kept Dawn's team with her, Vi, her Jedi lover Zett, Belle and Molly. But the rest she mixed together.

When she was satisfied with the six teams she had, Faith decided to add another Jedi to her team. She first thought of Obi-Wan, but decided against it. The team with three novice Slayers and one Jedi Knight would probably need a Master. Faith continued creating teams and stared outside. The sun was just rising and the sky had turned a brilliant shade of burgundy. Knowing the night team would soon slip in, she made a mental note to continue her work on this later and rose to meet the night team to discuss their Slaying tactics.

Luckily for her, it was Dawn's team, under her senior Slayer Vi. Their team was usually the most fun.

- - - - -

"She wants us to do what?"

"Shh," Dawn whispered, leaning to sit with her group in the cafeteria area before they headed off to sleep. "Faith said she wanted to stir up some friendly competition, so she's proposed a challenge. Something about whoever can kill vampires and demons, or the amount they can kill, or how dangerous they are… she wasn't really specific on the particulars, but it sounds fun."

"Maybe for you," Vi protested, removing the bagel shoved in her mouth and throwing her close friend a dirty look. "Please tell me you didn't go along with her."

"Of course I did," Dawn said huffily. "We've got the best team. It's time to prove it. Faith said that if we win this competition and beat her team and the other teams, she'll give us another senior Slayer."

Vi's hand froze on the way to her orange juice. "Really?"

Dawn rolled her eyes and glanced over at Belle and Molly. "What do you two think?"

"Which Slayer would we get?" Belle whispered.

"I asked for Rona," Dawn smirked. "I don't think she's really enjoying working with Aayla Secura's team. I think she said the Twi'lek scares her."

"Did you see Xander's apartment after she spent the night there?" Molly asked, paling. "Hell, I'd be afraid of her, too."

"What about Kennedy?" Vi asked. "I mean, we have known her the longest."

"Most of us can't stand her, Vi," Belle reminded her. "Besides… I think Rona would work really, really well with us. You're friends with her, Dawn, right?"

"Yeah, sort of," Dawn mumbled, feeling somewhat ashamed that she was not as close to some Slayers as she would have liked. But when Vi turned that bright smile to her, Dawn felt something relax inside of her. "Anyway… Faith's team seems killer. Her, Buffy, Anakin and she's hoping to add Padmé."

"What can a former Senator do?" Vi asked curiously.

"She's also a former Queen and apparently she can inflict a lot of damage. Faith's wanted to get Buffy and Anakin's spirits up since their mom died."

"I heard about that," Molly said, casting sad eyes downward.

"Padmé's been spending some time in training with Faith," Dawn explained to her team. "I think Faith wants her to develop a backbone, whatever that means."

"I think it means she had a bad year," Belle smirked. Dawn's eyes narrowed as she looked at her Slayer.

"Don't speak about her that way," she cautioned. "The Jedi have spies everywhere. Including Zett… Anakin is someone he looks up to a lot."

"And apparently he looks up _you _a lot," Vi teased.

"And we're done here," Dawn said, slapping the table with her palms and standing up.

"Come on, Dawn… we're just prying into your sex life," Belle giggled. "It's not like we really have one holed up on campus most of the time. The only eligible bachelors out there are… well, dead."

Dawn scoffed and folded her arms. "Just be ready tonight… sundown or nine o'clock, whichever comes first. We've got a random placing, so I want maximum impact with minimum pull. We're trying to win out against a great team." Dawn swallowed hard. "I'm just glad the original Slaying team isn't going out or we'd be down for sure."

"Considering Buffy and Faith are heading up this pet project, I assume we're already down. But we've got something they don't. We've got unity, we've got our teamwork down and our stats are still best. You saw what the others put up. We rule."

Dawn rolled her eyes again before leaving the cafeteria, her Slayers chattering happily behind her.

- - - - -

Xander stood patiently in his girlfriend's apartment, watching as she prepared for patrol. "You know," he said conversationally, "you really don't have to do this."

"It's a bit of healthy competition, Xander," Aayla said in her patented patient tone, flashing him her bright smile as she pulled on her vest.

"I thought Jedi didn't believe in competition. Aren't Jedi created equal?"

"I believe that this exercise will prove to be fruitful."

Xander scoffed, "Right. Do you remember a few years ago when the groups started going out together?"

"That was different."

"It was different. The Slayers versus the Jedi. The Slayers were so high and mighty and talked down to the Jedi who just stood there and took it. They didn't even fight back."

"Fighting back only led to our demise, Xander," Aayla said, a darkness passing in her face. "Since we've been here, we haven't lost anyone. They're beginning to see that this is a new life, a new day. There is nothing wrong with competition if it inspires. The Jedi and the Slayers are learning invaluable skills to help them in the future. They are learning how to work together."

"I only hope the others have as much faith in this as you do."

"We do not have a lot," Aayla reminded him. "Sometimes believing in ourselves is the only way to get us through. The Jedi will do what is right. I expect the Slayers to do the same."

"I hope so too," Xander said, coming up behind her to help her with her coat. "I'm just not sure about tonight."

Aayla paused for a moment before turning to face him. "How about a side bet?"

"You mean you want to wager on someone?" he asked lightly as he collected the various weapons scattered on her table.

"I know my team isn't as coherent as the others," Aayla replied. "Will you be going out as well?"

Xander nodded. Faith had told him to go with the team currently under the leadership of Master Shryne."

Aayla's lips turned up. "How about a bet to see which team comes out ahead?"

"But I'm not fighting," Xander protested. Aayla shook her head and touched her finger to Xander's lips, shushing him.

"That was not part of my bargain," she said softly. His protests fell short and he sighed helplessly. "If my team outshines yours…" She looked at him then and instantly he knew what she was talking about.

"And if my team outdoes yours…?" he asked breathlessly, silently hoping his team would lose.

"I would force myself to go to that rally you have been speaking so fondly of."

Xander's gaze brightened as he pushed out his hand towards hers. "You're on."

- - - - -

"Working on spells, casting charms and doing your usual work?" Kennedy asked briskly as she smoothed her leather jacket. Tara was seated in her chair with a book, combing through with interest.

"Anything to help my team win."

Kennedy dropped the knife she had been about to sheath and turned on her girlfriend. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Last I heard, magic was allowed."

"You are not going to use magic," Kennedy said, her tone half-threatening.

"It's not like I have my keen Slayer skills to help me," Tara teased as she got to her feet, setting the book aside. "Besides, my team only has the youngest Slayers."

"But you have one of the wisest Jedi Masters," Kennedy argued.

"So do you," Tara reminded her. "Ydra leads your team, does he not?"

"Well, yes," Kennedy admitted.

"There you go. My team includes a vampire, three young Slayers and Olee Starstone who, by my calculations, is still a Padawan. I am basically in charge of my group unless I can somehow convince Wesley to come along."

"You could always ask Willow."

There was silence between the two until Kennedy sighed, her eyes closing. "Me and my big, damn mouth."

Tara reached forward and put a comforting hand on Kennedy's shoulder. "It's okay, love. I know how hard it's been."

"If you didn't spend every waking hour with her—"

"I spend all these nice, cold England nights with you…" Tara reminded her.

"Not to mention all of those long hours in meditation—"

"Almost as good as those hours of Tai Chi you've been grinding into my brain," Tara murmured, feeling amused.

"You're hardly ever home, you hardly ever train—"

"And yet you're still the one I'm in love with."

Kennedy's mouth snapped shut and she found herself smiling guiltily at Tara. "I love you, too."

Tara smiled and cupped Kennedy's face between her hands. "Just because my team isn't going to win doesn't mean yours can't. You go out there and you fight it to the end, all right? I'll be here waiting for you when you get back."

Kennedy smiled softly at the thoughts of what awaited her come dawn. "Yes, ma'am."

- - - - -

"This is utterly ridiculous."

"You look kind of hot," Buffy said, closing the door to her room behind her and looking appreciatively at her brother and sister-in-law. "So, you talked her into it, did you?"

"It cost me," Anakin sighed dramatically as Padmé hit his arm. "I had to give her my blaster."

"Poor baby," Buffy said, unable to stop a giggle.

"Why was I asked to do this anyway?"

"You are Faith's special project," Anakin told her. "I mean, Mr. Giles means well, but he's rather incompetent when it comes to fighting. How many times has he been knocked unconscious because of his ineptitude?"

"More than I care to count," Buffy spoke up.

"The last one was a pity shot," Padmé objected. "I was there with him and—"

"Exactly!" Anakin said. "Exactly, Padmé… you were right there. You've been out in the field. It's time to test your shot again."

"I think I'd feel better if you gave me something that wouldn't take someone's arm off."

"Or take someone's eye out."

"How did Obi-Wan take being left behind?" Anakin asked, sidling up next to his sister.

"He'll deal," Buffy sighed. "I just didn't want him on my team for the obvious reason."

As she walked on, Padmé and Anakin exchanged an exasperated look.

- - - - -

"All right, there you go everyone! Nice and shiny!"

Fred Burkle swept up and down the line, examining the teams and their weapons. Each Jedi was permitted a lightsaber to take into battle. Obi-Wan stood behind her, the slightest hint of a pout on his face. Even she couldn't deny the hurt looks he kept throwing towards Buffy and Faith.

"But their team only has four!" a young Slayer exclaimed, peering out behind her Jedi escort, Aayla Secura, and glaring at Faith. "There are two Jedi, a senior Slayer and a… a…"

"She's as good as a Watcher," Giles said, frowning from his own placement. He scowled as he apprised his team, consisting of Kennedy as the lead Slayer.

"She's a pretty good fighter, too," Anakin replied. "You didn't see her on Geonosis."

"Don't need those memories," Buffy murmured, shuddering.

"All right, y'all! It's exactly eleven pm. You've got six hours out in the darkness to bag your baddies. The Watchers on your team will keep tabs on teamwork, kill stats, mileage covered, location scouting and demon slayage. Anyone who strays beyond their markers will be blipped at by these." She held up a small gadget. "It's a global positioning unit and one has been added to each team, secured to a specific weapon. If you remove them, you'll be disqualified."

"What happens if we win?" Faith couldn't help but ask.

"The team that wins gets first crack at the new shipment of weapons and materials from the states as well as the first crack at whatever comes through the portal next," Fred said. "That was agreed upon by all parties. I'm sure you all have your little side bets."

Faith and Buffy exchanged a smirk. Buffy had been talked into going out and clubbing with Faith if their team won. If their team didn't win, Faith would back out of Buffy's love life and leave it rest. She would also stop referring to Obi-Wan as a walking orgasmic something-or-other that was far too sexual in nature and tended to leave Buffy's face burning red. Faith would also stop setting Buffy up with prominent divorcees.

Anakin and Padmé also had a bet and both were hoping they'd lose. Zett and Dawn were tightlipped about their bet but everyone knew the terms were something kinky that one or the other wasn't willing to try out yet. The Slayers had small bets amongst themselves, mostly dealing with bootlegged music and movies, cash, jewelry or daring, spontaneous things like getting tattoos or something unnatural pierced or a combination of all. The Jedi had bet very little, knowing that if they bet they could lose everything.

They were always the cautious ones.

"Come on guys, get out of here!" Fred said, shooing everyone out the door. "We'll see you again come five am. If you come back early, we'll have the coffee on. If you're out past sunrise, you'll lose points."

There was a fair bit of grumbling and sighing going on as the Slayers and Jedi, Watchers and Vampires were escorted out of the Council chambers. As the doors closed, Fred turned triumphantly to Obi-Wan.

"Well, don't expect me to wait around all night," he said grumpily, turning on his heel and walking away.

Fred sighed dramatically, collected a technical manual and headed back towards her lab.

- - - - -

The End


	9. Year 3: Driving Miss Summers

**Exiled**

**Disclaimer: **Owner by Joss Whedon, George Lucas and the master of this crossover, Drew Niehaus.

**Notes: **This is the second and last story for Year Three and sort of details the fallout from the previous section. I wanted to do something fun because something big was coming. Also, there is only one story for Year Four, which brings up the total to ten. I would love to go beyond the four years but as for it actually happening, we'll see…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_Driving Miss Summers_

_For all those unaccustomed to driving on the wrong side of the road, please stand up._

"I don't want to get up."

A warm arm stretched across her abdomen. "Then you don't have to get up," a sleepy voice murmured. "This is what you get for winning."

Dawn chuckled as she turned over, coming face-to-face with Zett. Though in a pair of pants borrowed from Xander and an old t-shirt, he was still her adorable Zett. "Lucky me," she smirked.

He reached over to stroke her hair. "Did you sleep okay?"

"I slept great," Dawn replied, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. "But my sleep has been all messed up since that night of so-called friendly competition."

Zett laughed as he watched Dawn pull on a robe and attempt to straighten her hair. "I don't think watching your sister get shot in the butt with an arrow was really friendly."

"The fact that it was her own sister-in-law mishandling a crossbow," Dawn sighed, turning back to Zett. "It definitely cheered Anakin up. I haven't seen him laugh that hard since before his mom died."

Zett reached over, playing with Dawn's hand. "She was Buffy's mother too, you know."

"Buffy will make a full recovery in the infirmary. I'm sure Lord Nigel has plenty to say about her team's inept failure."

"They couldn't help it," Dawn argued. "Buffy got shot, Anakin completely lost it and Faith just about went mental."

"I agree she has some work to do on Padmé, but the work in progress thing is really going well," Zett replied. "I'm not too sure about Kennedy and Tara though."

"They'll be fine," Dawn said, smiling despite the sadness she felt at watching the Witch and Slayer argue. Both had been through so much… they really were destined to be together. But sometimes their pride got in the way.

"I don't think Obi-Wan was too happy at being left behind."

Dawn glanced down, wincing. She wasn't convinced of Buffy's feelings that leaving Obi-Wan behind was the right thing to do. "He's one of the strongest Jedi. He could have come out."

"But out of respect for your sister, he stayed behind."

"I'm not really sure what's going on there, but they had a lot to work through," Dawn replied, an edge to her tone as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"You've been spending time with him?"

"With her," Dawn corrected. "She's my sister, Zett. She just lost her mother a few weeks ago. She's hurting. Anakin's hurting. And when my sister hurts, she tends to push people away. The only people she hasn't pushed away are Obi-Wan and Anakin."

"Yet, who refuses to leave her side in the infirmary?" Zett asked lightly.

"Don't expect me to read minds, Zett. I'm not that talented."

"Well, I know for sure that I'm still waiting for my prize."

"For what?"

"Our team won," Zett said playfully. "You owe me."

"Well," Dawn said, sliding into lap and wrapping her arms over his shoulders, "I've got your wager right here, Mister."

- - - - -

"I can't move."

"I have been awake for hours."

Xander forced himself to sit up, pushing aside the mountain of pillows heaped upon him. His eyes widened as he saw Aayla in her stark glory moving rhythmically in front of him. "Please tell me that's a Twi'lek thing," he whispered, awed.

"Like what you see?" she asked, continuing to move.

"If I say yes, will it cost me?" he teased.

"Always."

Xander happily rearranged his pillows and leaned on them, watching as his girlfriend continued to exercise. "Then by all means. We just have to get ready for the motor rally at seven tonight."

Aayla slid one arm in the air and slowly moved it down her body. Xander found himself unable to breathe for a moment. "Don't you think for one second you can seduce me out of it," he breathed.

"I wouldn't try. You spent good money on those tickets."

Xander felt as though his chest was compressing as she bent down, the tips of her extensions lying perfectly flat on the ground. "I… I…"

"Yes?" she asked as she slowly moved back up.

"I am not going to back out of this," Xander said, shaking his head to clear it. "Are you going to stop?"

"Must I stop my own exercises?"

"You have to or I'm going to pounce."

"I never said I had to do these alone."

"Oh." Xander felt like his chest deflated.

She glanced over her shoulder, her dark eyes appealing to him. "Care to join me, Xander?"

"Oh…"

"I have one simple rule though," she said, pushing both arms forward before moving them up.

"No… clothes…?" Xander asked breathlessly.

"I told you I'm in my time."

Xander was shaking as he stood up. He was already aching from last night's so-called adventure. If life with a Twi'lek was this exciting, he didn't know how much more his simple, human body could take!

- - - - -

Buffy slowly shifted around on her cot, thrashing loudly to get the attention of the medic. But whenever she seemed to point out her boredom, the medic would simply ignore her.

She didn't know how much more of this she could take.

"Hi, there."

Buffy turned to see a familiar face peeking at her from the doorway. Willow stepped in, eyeing the medic nervously before taking the seat occupied by Anakin only a few hours earlier. "Sleep well?"

"Wil? What are you doing here?"

"I figured you were probably bored out of your mind, so I figured I could help."

"Seeing as I have no homework for you to do—" Buffy yawned, stretching her arms in a pointed gesture while keeping an eye on the medic, who she could see was trying in vain not to watch her.

"Aside from an avalanche of paperwork from Lord Nigel," Willow pointed out.

"I gave that to Padmé."

"You are taking advantage of her simple mistake."

Buffy stopped in mid-stretch. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd again defend your sister."

Willow let out a sad chuckle. "I guess it happens to the best of us. What did you want to do?"

"Get the hell out of here," Buffy murmured, her tone rising to a shout. "But _some morons won't let me leave!_"

"You have to stay until the Watchers say you can leave. As we have been unable to contact Rupert Giles or Lord Ambroise-Bellairs, we have no choice but to confine you to—"

Buffy shrieked and lobbed her water jar at the medic, who cried out and jumped out of the way. Willow just sighed and rubbed her hand over her eyes, too used to Buffy's antics and her general dislike of hospitals to really rebuke her for it.

"Because of that, Miss Summers, you can stay in here all week!"

"Oh, just piss me off, nurse boy!" Buffy shouted back. "We'll see who wins this argument. You can't really mess with me. I've got friends with power!"

"Buffy, for the love of all that is green and good, will you just relax?" Willow intervened. "My God, you sound like you're eleven again."

"He started it!" Buffy shouted out as the medic threw his hands in the air and stormed out of the infirmary. "Bloody moron."

Despite the situation, Willow couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, Buffy, some things will never change."

"And some do," Buffy replied, glancing Willow up and down. "You've been putting on weight."

"I'm surprised you've noticed," Willow said softly. "I've also helped your sister construct a two-ended lightsaber."

"Considering the last time I saw one of those things it killed my mentor, I guess I can deal," Buffy replied, leaning back in her head. "Do you want to know what I really miss? I miss going to the beach and caring nothing except whether or not my backside and front side will match when I'm done. I miss the days of going to school and actually looking forward to hanging out in the library."

"I miss those simpler times," Willow said, smiling sadly. "But when you look at it, we're about the same age Giles was when he first started out in Sunnydale."

"Don't remind me," Buffy said dramatically. "But there's one thing I've always wanted to do but I've never been able to do it."

"What's that?" Willow asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Drive," Buffy said simply. "I'm not talking about the ships, because even old Prometheus was my friend in a storm. I'm talking about an automobile, like Xander's old Volkswagen."

"Buffy, here in England they drive on the wrong side of the road and the steering wheel is on the right side."

"Do you think that concerns some of the other pilots?" Buffy asked with a laugh. "I've driven on the right before."

"Well, Buffy, while you're an accomplished pilot and you're damned good at what you do, I'm not sure I trust you completely with an automobile."

Buffy sighed and fell back against her pillows. "I'm just saying…"

But Willow wasn't about to buy it. "What did you do?"

"What?"

"I know you, Buffy," Willow said, a conspiratorial smile on her face. "What are you planning on?"

"You know that little friendly competition… well, I made a bet with Dawnie if we lost."

"But you did lose. Her team won," Willow pointed out. "She got her Slayer as promised."

"I know…"

"Yeah, and Rona has never been happier," Willow agreed. "What did she promise you?"

Buffy suddenly sat up, glancing at the door to make sure the medic wasn't coming back. "I'll tell you later. Right now, how about we play around a bit, short-sheet the beds and mix up the meds?"

Willow felt somewhat happier as she looked at the youthful spark in Buffy's eyes. She hadn't felt like that in years. She would have given anything to feel that rebellious, youthful streak again.

"You're on."

- - - - -

"Well, that was surprisingly boring," Anakin said, setting aside another paper. "If Lord Nigel hasn't been so damned accommodating, I would have thrown him to the demons myself."

"This is all Buffy's fault," Padmé groaned, staring at the stack of papers still left to go through.

"Actually, Padmé, you were the one that—"

"I know, I know," Padmé sighed. "I just hate the fact I'll probably be paying for this the rest of my career."

"Not so, my love," Anakin said, squeezing her hand as he took a few papers from the top of the stack. "She's trapped in the infirmary until Lord Nigel gets the stick out of his ass and signs her release."

"We could be nice and have someone forge the signature for her," Padmé suggested.

"Padmé!" Anakin said, his jaw dropping as he turned to his wife. "Since when have you gotten this rebellious streak? What happened to the fair, level-headed politician I married?"

"She's changed," Padmé said without glancing up from the papers. Anakin's face reflected sadness in the truth of that as he went through his own stack.

"Padmé…"

"I get it, Annie," she said, setting her pen down and looking up at him. "We've been here nearly three full years now. Our kids are teenagers now. They hardly recognized us the last time we saw them. They've changed. We've changed. And when we go back…"

Anakin felt a smile grace his features as he reached across and took his wife's hand before she could pick up her pen again. "Padmé…"

"When we go back, I want to be stronger. I was such a wreck the last time, crying about this and that, you and Willow, everything was dark and I was depressed and the babies were coming and—"

He cut her off by kissing her. It was a sweet kiss that mingled with her tears. She was blinking as he pulled away. "That was convincing," she chuckled in a watery tone.

His fingers gently stroked the tears from her cheeks. "I love what you are doing, Padmé. You've been working with Faith for the past few months trying to get your battle side back. You have never lost it. Someday we'll be fighting the Empire, together. Just you and me and Luke and Leia."

"Our family," Padmé beamed.

"Yes," Anakin said, standing up and reaching down for his wife. "Our family."

- - - - -

Dawn sighed as she walked through the crowded corridors. Since their night of friendly competition, it was now all or nothing. But when her sister had basically begged her to take her out, Dawn couldn't argue. She would much rather have wanted to stay with Zett since they were celebrating still, but Buffy was her sister and needed her.

She spied Anakin and Padmé, looking rather amused as they walked down the corridor. "Oh, were you on your way to see Buffy?"

"Yeah," Anakin said, snickering at what Buffy had told him. "They've been having fun in there."

"Who?" Dawn asked suspiciously. "Who is in there with her?"

Padmé shrugged. "I didn't go in. Anakin just gave her back all the papers she gave me."

"I bet she didn't like that."

"She's been whining about learning how to drive."

"Has she?" Dawn asked sourly. "She basically begged me to take her out. Apparently she's having a craving for some specialty chocolate and platform shoes. And here I thought us Jedi weren't supposed to be so fond of possessions."

"How terrible for her," Anakin said, his lips twitching. "It's hard to keep the shoes away from her. They are essential for any Jedi."

"Yeah, you don't have to take her on her errands. I have to drive."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about entertaining her anymore," Anakin smirked as he and Padmé passed.

Dawn, confused, turned and headed towards the infirmary. What she saw inside shocked her.

Buffy and Willow were in wheelchairs. The cots had been pushed away to the walls, allowing both women to circle their wheelchairs in the attempt to drive theirs past the other. Dawn just waited for a moment, a hand clasped over her mouth before reminding herself that this was her sister, Buffy Summers-Skywalker, the great Master Jedi and her former nemesis Willow Rosenberg, formerly Darth Traya.

Then she heard another voice over her shoulder, one of absolutely disbelief.

"What in the bleeding hell have you done to my Infirmary?"

- - - - -

The End

In year four, we deal with a few of the issues we haven't seen in awhile and look forward to the future… don't worry, the journey is almost over!


	10. Year 4: Glory Days

**Exiled**

**Disclaimer: **Owned by Joss Whedon, George Lucas and the master of this crossover, Drew Niehaus.

**Notes: **This is the last story in Exiled. Takes place before the events of year four in the original story. Hope you enjoy.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_Glory Days_

_As the Jedi prepare to return to the world that exiled them, Buffy and Willow face a milestone of their own._

"What'cha makin'?"

"I'm baking, actually," Tara said, leaning down to remove a cake from the oven. "Someone's birthday is tomorrow, seeing as its January—"

"Yeah, I remember," Xander said, leaning against the counter as he watched Tara set the pan on the counter. "Even though she was gone for what… three years? I remember when my best friend's birthday is."

"I just hope we have enough candles. After Willow's last birthday, we were running kind of low."

"Couldn't she just abracadabra some more?" Xander asked playfully.

Tara's hand slipped from the pan as she glanced up at Xander. "She doesn't do that anymore, Xan. She's changed now."

"I know she's changed, but sometimes I look at her at she almost reminds me of the girl I knew."

"Don't I know the feeling," Tara sighed. "But the fact of the matter is, our girls are growing up. They'll be forty soon."

"Imagine all the jokes," Xander said wistfully. "I see plenty of black balloons and morbid wishes ahead."

"I don't think those are such a good idea anymore, Xander," Tara said, walking around the corner of the counter. "Buffy's a Jedi now. To her, age probably means something different. Turning forty to the old Buffy would have been a miraculous milestone, something to celebrate with an all-night drinking party and talk of the glory days. But things have changed. You're twenty four. She'll be thirty eight."

"Just thinking about that is scary," Xander said sadly.

"Unfortunately, it's not exactly scary anymore. It's life."

"They're talking about going back, you know," Xander said. "All of them?"

"Including Aayla?" Tara asked lightly.

"I know the time will eventually come when she'll leave with the Jedi and I'll be at home, nursing a broken heart."

"You wouldn't go with her?" Tara asked.

"And do what? Become the Jedi's finest source of carpentry labor? I don't understand half of the architecture stuff she's thrown at me."

"But… you care for her, right?"

"Care might be an understatement," Xander replied, watching as Tara began to whip frosting in a bowl. "I think I'm growing fond of her. Fond enough to say…"

"Admit it, Xander. You love her."

"I think I do. And it's scary, you know? I mean, I loved Cordelia. You never met her, but she was… she was something else. Anya was a demon who made it her business to destroy men who wronged women. And now Aayla. She's… she's…"

"Driven is the word I think of," Tara smirked as she moved back to the cake, shaking it from its pan onto a cooling rack.

"She can definitely drive."

Tara eyed him dryly as she set her bowl aside. "Maybe when the time comes, you'll work something out."

"I mean, it's not like you and Kennedy. You two seem destined to be together."

"That's because I love her."

"So you have a slight idea how I feel."

"Yeah," Tara surmised, removing her apron and tossing in on the counter. "I do."

- - - -

"You doing okay, Dawnie?"

"I'm fine," Dawn said, glancing up from her paperwork. "Just working on my papers."

"You should take some time off," Vi said, leaning casually against the doorway. "It's a big weekend and all… it's your sister's birthday."

"I know."

"What'd you get her?"

Dawn set down her pen as she glared at her friend. "What makes you think I got her anything?"

"Well, last year you gave her that stunning sixth-century weapon set. I thought it was pretty neat, all those shiny swords you could have given me, you know, being your best friend and all…"

"Vi," Dawn laughed, getting to her feet. "It's different this year. But you want to see what I got her? Here." Dawn reached into her desk, pulled out a book and handed it to her friend. "It's just some stuff… from Sunnydale, from home."

Vi felt a smile touch her face as she paged through the book. "This is incredible, D. You are something else, you know?"

"Yeah, tell me something I don't already know," Dawn replied, her eyes twinkling. "And you're sweet. The gift is crappy."

"Did you see what Faith is giving her?"

"Okay, so my gift isn't the crappiest," Dawn said, grabbing her papers and shoving them into a folder. "Anyway… I think I'm done here. You want to go hang out, grab something to eat?"

"What about Zett?"

"He's off with the Jedi tonight doing some sort of mental retreat thing. But they'll be back tomorrow. Like Anakin or Obi-Wan would miss Buffy's birthday."

"Wouldn't it be funny if they did?"

"I don't think she'd forgive them," Dawn said, threading her arm through Vi's. "Let's go."

- - - - -

It was a misty, cool morning as the sun rose over the quiet campus. Buffy stood out by the memorial wall, her eyes scanning each and every name on the stone. It was something she had done her last birthday and something she was doing for this one. Her fingers reached out to trace the name of her beloved Jacen, his son and their daughter. She felt the tears in her eyes and the strain in her throat as she pulled her hand away. She would have thought that after this much time had passed, she'd be over it. But she knew in her heart that she'd never truly be over this…

"Hey there, morning Buffy," a playful voice rang out. "I didn't think you were old enough to the point you'd be up before the sun."

"I guess you've never lived with the Jedi," Buffy said dryly, stepping away from the memorial wall and facing her sister, who was walking down the path wrapped in her coat. "Speaking of up before the sun, you burning the sunrise light?"

"I normally sleep well past sunrise, but I miss my bed buddy."

"If you're talking about Zett, I so don't want to know about my sister's sex life," Buffy said, grimacing.

"Well, I'm not all too concerned with yours, either," Dawn retorted. "Except that you don't seem to be getting much in the way of—"

"I would put a cap on that thought if I were you," Buffy said, holding out her hand. "I tend to get all deaf when people start talking like that."

"I guess I wanted to be the one to wish you a happy birthday," Dawn replied. "I didn't expect you to be by the mourning wall."

"Sometimes I do it, you know, just to remember," Buffy said softly. "I don't really want to… it's complicated."

"No, I get it," Dawn replied. "I come here to remember, too. But sometimes you remember both the good and the bad. Before Sunnydale… before Sunnydale was destroyed, I made this book. It's really funny how I found all these pictures… they were in Mom's box at the gallery. I thought you'd like them… you know, to remember?"

Buffy took the photo album from Dawn and found her throat clogging up as she slowly opened the cover. "Oh," she said softly.

"I know… I know the gift sucks, but I mean it from a good place. I know you're going back soon, to wherever you're going back to. I don't want you to forget where you came from."

"I never forgot, Dawnie," Buffy said, glancing up at Dawn. To Dawn's surprise, there were tears sparkling in the elder Summers' eyes. "I never mean to."

"I didn't mean to make you cry."

"These were different times, Dawn. They were glory days before everything got complicated, before the portal opened… before I met the Skywalkers. Things are so different that sometimes I wonder what that life was like. Sometimes I wonder if I'm still alive…"

"Oh, Buffy, no," Dawn said, reaching out to her sister.

"But I guess I'm still here," Buffy said as Dawn wrapped her arms around her. "Maybe I'm just getting older."

"Ah, Buff," Dawn said as Buffy squeezed her painfully back. "You'll always look thirty to me."

"Remind me to put you in my will," Buffy said sarcastically, touching her sister's cheek. "Now… though you a Jedi Padawan, you were exempt from the retreat because of your Watcher duties. And I exempted myself because of… well…"

"Your Slayer duties?"

"You know me," Buffy said, shrugging. "I'm not really retreaty, you know?"

"That's not even a word."

"But it sounds fun," Buffy pointed out. "But now, dear Padawan, I've got work for you."

"But it's your birthday," Dawn pouted. "Err… Master," she added apologetically.

"Even if it's my birthday, I want you to train. The others will be back in a few hours and I want you ready," Buffy replied matter-of-factly. "Go and meditate. I'll catch up with you after I check in with Watcher Central."

"Okay," Dawn said, turning back to the building. "See you soon?"

"Right," Buffy said, taking the photo album and sighing. Hugging the book, she made her own way slowly back to the campus building, walking through throngs of Slayers laughing and sparring in the hallways.

"Buffy, good morning, how are you doing? I expect you slept well?"

"Hi, Giles," Buffy said, stepping into the room and smiling at her former Watcher. "I didn't sleep really well or at all, really. I'm getting older Giles. Another few years in the Jedi universe and I'll pass you in age."

"Buffy, if aging is what concerns you, I must say you've aged rather gracefully."

Buffy blinked as she held out the album, opening the cover and holding the book up for him. "Who is this, Giles? This blonde girl, smiling with her two best friends? Who is this?"

"Buffy, I—"

"Dawn was so thoughtful to give me this gift and the only thing I can think of when I see this is that this girl, this smiling, happy, beautiful girl is dead. This girl didn't have to worry about the weight of two worlds. And she certainly wasn't a Jedi."

"Buffy—"

"I guess I'm more Jedi than I thought I was," Buffy said, closing the album and setting it on Giles' desk. "I don't remember being a kid."

"Even when you were younger, you were no child. A juvenile adolescent, yes, but you matured at a very young age. And against extraordinary odds you're here today to celebrate a milestone few, including myself, ever thought you could reach. You may have changed in the past four years, Buffy, but I believe this change is for the better."

"I guess its true what they say about positive reinforcement," Buffy chuckled, wiping at her eyes. "I needed to hear it from you, too, I guess."

"I'll admit that when you returned I was uncertain as to whom you were. You were so lost and angry and tired. It was like I was facing a complete stranger. I was talking to someone I didn't know, an echo of someone I couldn't remember. But you reminded me why I came back as a Watcher. After you died… it took some time for me to return to my senses and… well, watch again. But in the end, it was worth it."

"I'm glad you stuck it out," Buffy replied. "I don't know what I would have done without you around."

"Well, you could have hung out more with us."

"Ha ha," Buffy said, turning around to face two vampires lurking in the dark shadows of the Watcher's office. They had come through one of the many secret passages built into the Watchers' offices. "You guys have been spending way too much time with Willow."

"Well, you know, dark souls prefer the other's company."

"How have you been?"

"A right sodding mess, thank you," Spike said, striding past Angel while throwing the elder vampire a scathing look. "First your friendly Lord Asinine sends me to patrol with the kiddie Jedi. It'd be fun if we were allowed to play with them."

"What, so they'd all have nightmares?" Angel scoffed. "Please. And I've been good," he said to Buffy. "Cordy and I… we've both been good."

"I'm glad you reiterated you're in a relationship now, throwing into my face once again that I haven't really loved anyone since my ex."

"We know all about the ol' poof, love," Spike replied. "Some guy with a nance for fighting the bad guys got the ol' Slayer all hot and bothered?"

"You're a pig, Spike," Buffy scowled.

"Yeah, Spike, grow up," Angel grinned. Spike rolled his eyes to the senior vampire. "We'll see you tonight… your birthday party?"

"Oh," Buffy murmured, rolling her eyes. "Right. Birthday party… I've got a few I can count on my fingers and toes I'd love to forget. I would also love to forget the fact you just love the fact I'm a few years from forty."

"If it's any consolation, you look hot," Spike said, his eyes flickering up and down her body.

"Somebody stake him," Angel groaned.

"If I had a nickel, love," Spike smirked.

"I know I'm getting old when those pathetic comments don't bother me anymore," Buffy sighed.

"I think you two should just leave her be," Giles said, despite his amusement.

"I think that's a good idea," another voice piped in. Buffy rolled her eyes as Anakin strolled into the room, gazing at both vampires with casual interest. "And you, Spike… if you speak about my sister that way again…"

"Well, aren't you the protective baby brother?" Spike sneered.

"When it concerns her, it does," Anakin replied.

"You're back."

"We just got in," Anakin replied, patting her on the shoulder. "Happy birthday, Buffy."

"Yeah, happy birthday and all," Spike said cheerfully.

"We have to talk," Anakin said, grabbing Buffy by the elbow. "With breakfast. Maybe something warm with the consistency of pancakes." With that, he dragged her from Giles' office, leaving behind the two vampires arguing with Giles.

"Did they starve you at this retreat?"

"No, but you know how Obi-Wan is."

"You didn't even think of finding your wife first?" Buffy asked.

"She's off with Faith."

Buffy frowned at that as Anakin marched her down to the galley area. "Enough said."

- - - - -

Loud music blared from speakers. As the Slayers jumped around to the melody, the mirror ball cast wicked shadows across the crowded dance floor of the Watcher's Academy reception hall. Anakin paused before he walked inside, glancing over at Obi-Wan who looked like he wanted nothing more than to bolt. "You ready?"

"Not really," Obi-Wan said weakly. "They never prepared us for this."

"They never prepared you to socialize?" Anakin asked doubtfully. "Has life with Buffy around taught you nothing? These are the same people we see day in and day out."

"But they're not usually around," Obi-Wan said, nodding in the direction of where Buffy was sitting at a table surrounded by Faith, both vampires, Tara, Kennedy, Xander and Aayla. Willow was a few paces away, nervously working up the courage to sit with her former friends. "And they're not around _her._"

"I sense jealousy," Anakin said, holding out his hand. "The Force is sensing jealousy from you, Master. Maybe you should tell her—"

"Anakin…"

"Well, it is her birthday after all and you can't pretend I don't know," Anakin argued. "I know all too well how you feel about her. You're going to have to tell her eventually."

"When I'm ready, I will," Obi-Wan replied with a sigh. "Now let's get in there before they find us gawking at them."

Anakin laughed as he followed Obi-Wan inside.

Dawn was with her Slayers at a table next to Buffy's, discussing a new master vampire that had recently been sighted by one of the other vampire teams. Zett sat next to her, playing with her hair as Dawn spoke.

Buffy sat with her friends while keeping a wary eye on Dawn. She still felt slightly responsible for Dawn, considering she was both her sister and her Padawan learner. She couldn't take these things in stride, after all. Dawn was still her sister. She heard Faith and the vampires bickering and found herself enjoying their company fondly instead of entering in.

Willow suddenly appeared at their table. "Hi."

"Hey yourself," Buffy said, leaning over the edge. "Having fun?"

Willow sighed and glanced sadly over where Anakin and Padmé were speaking with Wesley and Fred, looking rather adorable with their arms clasped around each other's waists. "I guess. It's been awhile since we've thrown you a party."

"This is the first birthday I've remembered having for a while," Buffy chuckled, reaching for her plastic cup. "This punch is delicious."

"That's because it's spiked."

"Maybe that's why I like it so much," Buffy teased. Willow gave her a hesitant smile and sat down as though her chair was a bed of hot coals. "What's up? You seem tense."

"It's just… a party atmosphere, you know? I'm still not used to being around so many people. But this is your birthday so I thought, you know, why not celebrate it with you. It's not the good old days with Angel losing his soul or Giles turning into a demon or Dawn suddenly appearing in your life… but it's still your birthday."

"I can't think of anything cliché to say about my birthday that isn't totally stupid or true," Buffy sighed, glancing at her cup before parting. "Oh, darn, it's empty."

"Don't fret," came another voice that whispered into her ear. "I'll get it."

"Oh, thanks," Buffy said, handing her cup over her shoulder. "So, now, where does this leave us?"

"With cake," Xander said, stepping into the room and switching on the bright lights over Buffy's table. "And maybe with that cake, we could get some dancing on the table?"

Aayla rolled her eyes and slapped Xander playfully on the arm. He grumbled as he rubbed the spot and stepped aside as Tara suddenly appeared. There was a large, two-tiered cake in her hands. She walked over and set the cake in front of Buffy, who stared at it in awe.

"Oh, my… is that chocolate?" Cordelia asked, appearing suddenly over Buffy's shoulder, eyeing the cake with apprehension.

"It's double fudge with triple chocolate mocha icing," Tara said proudly. "It's even homemade."

"Can I… marry it?" Buffy asked softly.

"After you blow out the candles," Kennedy said, appearing at Tara's side with a lighter. "I believe that—"

"Hey, I've got it covered," Tara said, placing her hand on Kennedy's and lifting her hand. A moment later, Tara's charm worked at the cake was ablaze, thirty eight candles lit. Xander headed over and turned off the lights, throwing the room in complete darkness.

Buffy glanced at her friends around her, feeling a sudden fondness for them all. Even Willow stood there with dewy eyes, staring at the cake in wonder. The vampires kept a clear distance from the fire. Dawn and Zett appeared, pushing their way in. Anakin and Padmé stood with his arms clasped around her waist. Obi-Wan stood out to her for some reason, staring at her mildly over the firelight.

"Make a wish, Buffy," Giles reminded her.

Buffy closed her eyes, smiling as she made her wish. Opening her eyes, she blew out her candles, pleased as she managed to get all on a breath and a half. As everyone applauded, she smiled at the group and stared lovingly at her cake.

"Oh, there is absolutely nothing that can't be solved with chocolate," she said, reaching out to touch her cake as Xander appeared with a knife. "Do you have to cut it?"

"Buffy, look at this masterpiece. Tara's a total lightweight in the kitchen, but today meant something to her. It means something to a lot of us. This cake was meant to be consumed. If you want, before I cut it, we can take a picture."

"No, thanks," Buffy said as Xander shook his head and cut into the cake. "I think I can remember this one."

"Maybe if you're done flirting with your cake, you can let Obi-Wan feed it to you."

Buffy glanced up, blinking in surprise at her friend. "What?"

- - - - -

The End

For real this time.


End file.
